NationStates Jolt Archive

"I'll be honest with you. I can't remember much. I promise I can't guarantee anything." She said, smiling as her hands touched his cheeks, her forehead touching his. There was no kiss, there was nothing of the sort, but there was a love that she could emanate that transcended it all. "I can promise I will try my best to know you, General." She offered, smiling. "I've decided. If you go, and promise me to return, then I'll be happy with whatever you do."

"I will." Zealot said. "No matter what I must do, no matter what should hinder me, I will come back." He hugged her, and it was a short while before he let go. "I should go."


Shmidt smiled as he heard the conversation in the other room. "Well Michael, it would seem that your objections and...poor attitude are no longer a danger, as success has been acheived." The blades sprang back into his cross, and he leaned down to help Johnson up. "You must trust our judgement Michael. We have done this since you were no more than an infant, we know what we are doing."

"Very well." Johnson said, grabbing Shmidt's hand and standing up. "I yield to your judgement."

"Thank you." Unity said graciously.

Lyra had left, standing at the door, listening to the conversation, walking off into the distance. "Rebellious bitch." She murmured, before moving off, an eyepatch dangling at her waist.

Zealot reluctantly left the room. He stopped as he saw Johnson's bloddied face. "What on earth..?"

"We had a minor disagreement is all." Shmidt said. "Go ahead, it wouldnt do to keep whoever you are being picked up by waiting."

Zealot hesitated, and Shmidt walked up to him, whispering in his ear. "Do not worry, I will ensure she comes to no harm."

"Thank you." Zealot said, and left the apartment, walking to his car.

Johnson walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He wiped the blood off his face witha towel, and began to laugh softly again. "Now he is no longer here to stop me from acting."

"Lord Reverend," Unity asked Shmidt. "Can I ask why you have such an attachment to the General?"

"Lord?" Shmidt replied, laughing. "Why, that's the first time I've ever been called that. We are old friends. War buddies, if you will. Why, I beleive I know him better than anyone, save the Hegemon and soon you."

He paused momentarily. "A bit of advice when dealing wth citizens of my nation: Never refer to anyone as nobility, as many consider it to be an insult. Sir or Ma'am should be the most formal you ever get when addresing someone from the Holy Empire."

A pasty hand waved over the vacant face and snapped a few times, to get the attention of the glazed eyes which hinted that their owner wished very much to be dead.

“We had quite a little scare there Felix,” with exhalation Felix pulled back into the shell of his life. “We almost lost you, we shall have to be more careful.” The speaking figure was tall and thin, mainly appearing as a white robe and slim face. “But it shall keep happening Felix until we get what we want. I suppose you know that?” The question was left hanging there as the man began to cluck around a set of controls, they were in the pit of the inquisition and the controls were keeping in style, as were the surroundings of craggy, stone walls.

“Hee,”

“I’ll give you a minute shall I? Can’t have you dying yet, you would disappoint so many people.” It was a terrible sight to see the man, the torturer turn his back on you, it made open a range of more terrible options that had been before been impossible if only for the amount of clean up. He was, Felix’s captor and personal demon, Dr. Retirun, His Grace Dr. Ablin Retirun, extraterritorial bishop, Head of Experimental Theology one of the more secretive arms of the Church.

He could easily smile through a torture session, and this made him a more unearthly terror by far, the other inquisitors at least pretended to be solemn, but the Doctor just sat and smiled, and watched, and took notes.

“That was minute, are we ready?” His robe was gently folded around a stool and he sat in front of his controls, head gently propped against his thin hands. “Let’s start again.” One finger lazily went down and flicked a switch on the keyboard, starting some nameless Latin chant to fill the cavern. “You believe in God the Almighty, Hierophant of Heaven, Creator of Man, Lion of the Tribe of Judah, Lord of Lord and King of Kings to which there is no equal?”

“Yes,” Felix rasped out as if this were not his thousandth time tied to the small, uncomfortable chairs of the inquisition.

“You tried to kill the Cenobiarch though, you tried to kill the messenger of God?”

Felix was about to shout out a denial but it died in his throat, and he simply muttered, “yes.” The doctor raised an eyebrow at this and checked a box on a small sheet of paper in front of him.

“You attacked the Council of Bishops, destroyed a water refining plant, killed hundreds of the Divine Legion, impersonated a member of the clergy, stole property of the Imperial Navy, bombed the Imperial University, set fire to the Chancellor, and committed heresies amongst the thousands, you should be burned alive for this you know?”

“Yes..”

“Really?” the pencil flew across the paper, marking and dashing across the page. “Everyone can find remission for their sins, you are not beyond that, work with us Felix.”

The bound man shook his head back and forth and moaned, “I am to deep in sin, they will come for me, they will take me, and they hate weakness.”

“Who hates weakness Felix?”

The moaning stopped and the bound man turned his head slowly, and not for the first time tears were rolling down the scar crossed cheeks, “don’t please.”

“We have to Felix, these are bad men and they need to be stopped.”

“No..” He whispered it before falling backwards, the prone figure fell back into muttering psalms which he had been doing off and on for the last three months, as the doctor slowly wormed what was needed from the man.

“Oh really Felix, we were doing so well, making real progress, and you go and do this? There shall be consequences, we really aren’t bad people, the Church you know. We care about you we wish to see you saved, but if you insist.” One pale finger descended towards the control panel, and pressed very firmly on a button.

“…And acts against the Church. Therefore on this, Tuesday the Fifth you, Felix Albemier, have been sentenced to death by burning, and suffer the eternal damnation of hell by order of His Imminence the Cenobiarch.” There was always no ‘may god have mercy’ God had already spoken, and though he would smile on you as the kindling was set, he would beam on the man with the matches.

Felix had been here before and as the cart trundled him towards the stake, and the band played a solemn drum roll, there appeared apparently only to him, because the amassed watching crowd seemed only to have attention to watch and abuse the condemned, a host of black clad angels with snapping teeth and salivating jaws, and even from here the power they had seemed to put a clamminess on the former high inquisitor and sucked the air from his lungs.

The crowd jeered as the limp frame was hauled onto the stake, and the hands and feet were bound over the large pile of kindling below him, and they absolutely roared when the final strap was put in place by brown hooded inquisitors which stepped back and nodded to the executioner. Slowly the man moved forward holding a torch, and with a crowd please fling sent the taper into the pile of wood which immediately burst into flame and began to singe the high inquisitors feet. Slowly the flames grew higher, the heat melting off Felix’s skin and turning his clothes, and his body to ashes, as he watched through burst ocular veins. The smoke and smell of burning flesh, and the sight of a jeering crowd were the last thing he would ever know, and as he fell into death, he began to scream.

“This could happen to you Felix aren’t you glad it isn’t” The doctor pressed the button again and the sounds of a mechanical generator stopped someway off, leaving only the sounds of Felix’s screaming. “Take his temperature,” the doctor snapped to a hooded inquisitor who nodded and rather carelessly inserted a thermometer into the man’s ear.

“111 Fahrenheit sir, although he feels cold.”

“Absolutely fascinating, absolutely,” busily the bishop picked up his notepad and scribbled in it as he gently strolled towards the recovering Felix, who now only occasionally moaned. “You see Felix,” he stuffed his cruel face in front of his prisoner, and for once it was snarling, “we will break you, in the end you will scream for mercy through gibbering teeth. I am in your head, I am your nightmares, I will find what you fear, and if I cannot I will make you fear.” The bishop pulled back his face and casually wiped off a fleck of spittle from his cheek.

“Interestingly enough Felix, we have a letter here, from you in fourth grade, Sister Redrick’s class, do you recall,” the doctor waved a piece of yellowing paper around in a vague circle, “it’s about your worst fears, what you have to do to overcome them, how God will help you. I’m sure you remember, you always have had an excellent memory. But it says that your worst fear is,” the doctor’s voice became light and sweet, “I don’t want my mom to die too.’ Apparently your father had died just last week, very sad, I understand he was a good an loyal man.” Losing his perkiness the bishop stalked back to his control chair and tapped on the keyboard for a few minutes, while whistling some tuneless ditty.

After awhile he looked up and smiled, and stared into Felix’s eyes, “I also understand you did not really get on with your mother in later life, let us see if we cannot take you back to see her again, forty years back.” The button was pushed again and the generator kicked into life, and within a few seconds Felix began to scream again and cry, and chatter mindlessly until the chair on which he sat clattered across the floor with the force of his sobbing. The bishop put his feet up on another chair and gently took notes.

--
The wind was nice, or maybe it was the sun, or maybe it was the freedom, or maybe it was the dead body of the policemen lying on the street beside him, but Felix felt good. It had been some weeks since his escape. Two members of the Inquisition, former employees had grabbed him under the arm and dragged him out of the pit, and whisked him into the Imperial City where he had taken full advantage of being free. Along with his friends he had avoided all capture, avoided all police, except this man, this poor man who had stumbled upon the three in an alley.

“It is perhaps fortuitous that air is indeed so diluted this morning,” Felix chattered mindlessly as he searched the man’s pockets, he found since he had escaped there was a certain need to speak as much as possible, to fit in as many words as one physically could before the end. “More likely than not,” he never waited for a response the inquisitors were not big speakers on the whole, and simply nodded when their mood needed conveying, “logically, for this section of the city, he is not attached to the Divine Legion, and his disappearance shall hardly cause a bother.” His hands closed on something in the pocket, and slowly lifted out a cell phone, one of the old foreign ones, bulky and mostly unreliable, but still a means of communication.

Something in the high inquisitors head raised a little flag as his eyes rolled over the phone, it was a long shot, a very improbable chance but one he had longed for secretly. He had kept the number secret above all things, whatever he had let slide in his madness he, knew he had kept this safe, and twitching with recalled enthusiasm of purpose and order. He dialed the number and sent a one-word message, maybe the Sons had forgotten him, more likely than not they had discarded their original means of communication long ago, but he couldn’t leave it at that. He texted, with the inexpert grace of a technophobe, “Hello?”

Unity nodded. "I, I understand, sir." She said.

Meanwhile, at the specified location, a private jet slowly drifted down onto the strip, unmarked and white, a ghost pilot of a machine as there were no numbers nor identification, save a small code to ensure proper landing. Cargo checked in, nothing, cargo check out, nothing.

It was an inconspicuous plane, and of all things, it came to pick up Zealot.

There was a malevolent rasp on the other line, the audio of a harsh sliver of poorly synced health, the clattering noises in the background amidst the unclear noise. Only a single voice replied, cold, vicious, harsh, without mercy and without any sort of compassion. A cold and emotionless voice without a weakness to show. "It has been a while." It had said, almost with a tone of nostalgia upon its tongue. "How long has it been since your touch with the Sons of Sagacity was cut off, Felix? Your fellow Sakrianda have fallen apart, and now a new army of fellow murderers take their places. How are you?" It asked. It was Redeye, the most malicious of all of the Sons of Sagacity, the leader, the lord, and the mind of the gigantic body of the organization.

"The organization is put into war mode for the second time ever, and we'll be taking a little fight against the enemy. Most surprisingly, they've been able to harm a General, and three, in fact. So of course, your bloodthirsty tendency would prove to be a wonderful asset to our endeavors, my dear Sakrianda." Redeye urged.

Zealot walked through the gate, the AL guard stationed there saluting as he did so. He opened the door to the plane, stepping inside and closing it behind him. He walked to a seat, and sat down.

"Please, call me Shmidt, or Thomas." The reverend said, smiling. "We are at your command, miss."

Johnson walked out of the bathroom. He did not say anything, but walked over to the desk he had been working at the night before. He picked up a handgun magazine, and began loading strange-looking bullets into it.

"Who is this? Ah, no, what a foolish question it perhaps has been too long, but if time heals all wounds it certainly opens others. Certainly opens others. I have no interest in you petty squabbles or indeed any time for your underhanded malicioness, answer me one thing, whoever you are, I gave Sekai something once, something very dear. I desire it's return. Tell me where it is and I shall have no more to do with you, I have had enough so I shall take what is mine and leave. Where is it?"

"Is Mr. Schmidt an appropriate title for me to address you?" Unity asked politely.

"A rank of General, though with much help from the daughter of the Fox Lord." The voice across from Zealot said, as a familiar tone was heard attached to a familiar face with familiar eyes. She had streaks of golden hair this time, and while she didn't change herself physically, she looked different in a sense. Bowing loyally, she smiled as her hands, so definite of her, stayed warmly within her pockets. "Do you remember me, General Zealot?" She asked. It was Blackracket.

"Redeye, the first and foremost of the Sakrianda." He replied coldly. "Sekai, as of now, is a traitor to the organization, and his hunt is on its way. What, might I ask," He paused, relishing the pain of his pride, "did you give to him?"

Felix paused a moment and heaved a silent sigh this could possibly take some time, "That should not concern you, Sekei does not even know what it is, if he has kept his promises, which perhaps has been cast into some doubt by your statements. It seems I may be of some use to you then, it seems we have one objective in common, and frankly the life of one minor killer will not stain my hands further, should you have need of my services I believe a deal may be struck from this. May we meet?"

"That would be fine." the reverend said, smiling.

"In that case, it might be best for you to refer to me as Jacob, to avoid confusion, as our surnames are very similar." Smith said, sitting down in a chair.

"Indeed, I do, Blackracket." Zealot replied. "Are you to brief me upon this assignment then?" His expression was neutral, with just a hint of impatience showing. He was already waiting for the mission to end, despite the fact that he had yet to begin upon it.

Felix paused a moment and heaved a silent sigh this could possibly take some time, "That should not concern you, Sekei does not even know what it is, if he has kept his promises, which perhaps has been cast into some doubt by your statements. It seems I may be of some use to you then, it seems we have one objective in common, and frankly the life of one minor killer will not stain my hands further, should you have need of my services I believe a deal may be struck from this. May we meet?"

"I can offer only the words of one of your brothers within the organization to meet you. Where do you want to meet?" Redeye asked.

"That would be fine." the reverend said, smiling.

"In that case, it might be best for you to refer to me as Jacob, to avoid confusion, as our surnames are very similar." Smith said, sitting down in a chair.

"Indeed, I do, Blackracket." Zealot replied. "Are you to brief me upon this assignment then?" His expression was neutral, with just a hint of impatience showing. He was already waiting for the mission to end, despite the fact that he had yet to begin upon it.

Blackracket nodded. "It's not a mission debriefing, but rather a disclaimer." She took out a tiny syringe and a small leather case, opening it as she inserted a needle onto the end, pointing it at Zealot. "You are being summoned to take part as a General to the Vermilion Council. The location of the Council has been a secret for generations within the Sons of Sagacity, and for that, only one General knows of its existence, our Lord Redeye. Do you agree with the conditions I give you?" She asked. "You will be put to sleep and then you will wake up within the room of the council."

Blackracket nodded. "It's not a mission debriefing, but rather a disclaimer." She took out a tiny syringe and a small leather case, opening it as she inserted a needle onto the end, pointing it at Zealot. "You are being summoned to take part as a General to the Vermilion Council. The location of the Council has been a secret for generations within the Sons of Sagacity, and for that, only one General knows of its existence, our Lord Redeye. Do you agree with the conditions I give you?" She asked. "You will be put to sleep and then you will wake up within the room of the council."

Zealot hesitated for only a moment. "I agree to these terms."

"That's more than acceptable, the means do not matter it is only the final outcome that has any relevance. I would not suggest here for a meeting, it is perhaps a little dangerous at the moment. Your nearest member would be preferable, wherever his location that is where I wish to meet him."

Zealot hesitated for only a moment. "I agree to these terms."

"Then let's proceed." Blackracket prepared the syringe. "It's a completely harmless procedure." She replied honestly.

"That's more than acceptable, the means do not matter it is only the final outcome that has any relevance. I would not suggest here for a meeting, it is perhaps a little dangerous at the moment. Your nearest member would be preferable, wherever his location that is where I wish to meet him."

"I will call back soon with information on that closest member." Redeye replied back simply.

"Then let's proceed." Blackracket prepared the syringe. "It's a completely harmless procedure." She replied honestly.


"Very well, get it over with then." Zealot replied, his tone and face emotionless. "I'm not going to resist."

Blackracket nodded, injecting the serum.

When he would awaken, it would be in the middle of the ocean upon a carrier, a floating island of steel that drifted like a ghost ship from spot to spot, an army of destroyers and cruisers and battleships acting as guards amidst this lumbering behemoth of the waves. White caps smashed up against the hull, the chopper's rotors feeling the salty blow of the maiden froth left and right, the feel of the seagulls cackling in the bright day as the cloudless sky gave off a dangerous omen. Within this carrier there was a chamber, a black circular room where they had gathered - Six were present, two missing. These figures, stripped of their weaponry, sat weaponless save for their swords by their sides, looking at the circular table they sat at.

The gathering was commencing.

As Felix listened to Redeye his head swivelled slightly at what he thought was Gregorian chanting coming from a dumpster, but was only the settling of trash. His fingers nervously began to tap on the phone. "Very well, I await the moment with the keenest anticipation, I imagine you have the number," he snapped the phone shut.

"We are leaving?" One of the hooded inquisitors asked in a surprising coup of linguistic effort.

Felix, slightly taken aback by the man speaking, cocked his head for a moment before nodding, "yes, very soon now. We shall reaquire the book and, from there we shall see." The hood nodded it's agreement.

Zealot awoke slowly, to discover that he was in completely unfamiliar surroundings. He sat up, and nearly fell over as the room swayed slightly. After a moment, he realized that he was on a ship. He stood up, looking around him.

The clanging of pans and plates striking one another came from the kitchen of the apartment, as Smith washed the used dishes from the breakfast of earlier that morning. Johnson was hunched over his desk once more, analyzing building blueprints and floor plans of various buildings. The reverend sat in a large and comfortable chair, reading a bible and taking notes. After some time, he took of his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He stood up, and approached Unity.

"This may be something of a difficult question for you, miss, and I know you may not feel comfortable telling me the answer, but It is of grave importance that I know." Shmidt said to her, smiling benevolently. "Could you please tell me, if you are able, to whom or what your loyalty ultimately lies?"

As he asked this, the noise from the kitchen abruptly stopped.

As Felix listened to Redeye his head swivelled slightly at what he thought was Gregorian chanting coming from a dumpster, but was only the settling of trash. His fingers nervously began to tap on the phone. "Very well, I await the moment with the keenest anticipation, I imagine you have the number," he snapped the phone shut.

"We are leaving?" One of the hooded inquisitors asked in a surprising coup of linguistic effort.

Felix, slightly taken aback by the man speaking, cocked his head for a moment before nodding, "yes, very soon now. We shall reaquire the book and, from there we shall see." The hood nodded it's agreement.

It was a half an hour, but it was only a little bit before the phone would ring.

Zealot awoke slowly, to discover that he was in completely unfamiliar surroundings. He sat up, and nearly fell over as the room swayed slightly. After a moment, he realized that he was on a ship. He stood up, looking around him.

The clanging of pans and plates striking one another came from the kitchen of the apartment, as Smith washed the used dishes from the breakfast of earlier that morning. Johnson was hunched over his desk once more, analyzing building blueprints and floor plans of various buildings. The reverend sat in a large and comfortable chair, reading a bible and taking notes. After some time, he took of his reading glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He stood up, and approached Unity.

"This may be something of a difficult question for you, miss, and I know you may not feel comfortable telling me the answer, but It is of grave importance that I know." Shmidt said to her, smiling benevolently. "Could you please tell me, if you are able, to whom or what your loyalty ultimately lies?"

As he asked this, the noise from the kitchen abruptly stopped.

"You're here, General Zealot." The Spring Demon spoke, looking at him without emotion. "The war is beginning, and we must organize quickly. Please, have a seat." He urged to an empty seat.

Unity smiled. "I guess, since I am no longer part of them, my brothers and sisters, I have no one to tie to, so I don't know who I can affiliated to." She closed her eyes, her mind in thought. "But, I made a promise, and to General Zealot I will keep my loyalty. I promised to be with him forever, and forever is a time I need to get used to."

Felix was rather vexed as the phone began to ring again, waiting in an alley while the sounds of everyday life, and the slightly more terriffying sounds of helicopters whirring overhead had put his mood on edge, and his already frayed temper was close to snapping. He flipped open the phone on the second ring, "Yes?"

"You're here, General Zealot." The Spring Demon spoke, looking at him without emotion. "The war is beginning, and we must organize quickly. Please, have a seat." He urged to an empty seat.

Unity smiled. "I guess, since I am no longer part of them, my brothers and sisters, I have no one to tie to, so I don't know who I can affiliated to." She closed her eyes, her mind in thought. "But, I made a promise, and to General Zealot I will keep my loyalty. I promised to be with him forever, and forever is a time I need to get used to."

Zealot did as the Spring Demon asked silently, commiting the man's appearance and facial features to memory as he did so.

"I see." Shmidt said, nodding. He smiled as he sat down, satisfied with Unity's answer.

"Are you going to see the archbishop tomorrow then?" Smith's voice came from the kitchen.

"Yes." the Reverend said. "I've got to hand in my report, and receive our new orders." He looked at Unity again. "Wall, Johnson, myself, and Jacob all report to the Archbishop of Sumguaia, George Claxton. He is the current head of the Abrahamic League high council." He paused for a moment, as an idea came to him. "Perhaps you would like to accompany me miss? Claxton is a friend of mine and Wall's, I think he might like to meet you."

Felix was rather vexed as the phone began to ring again, waiting in an alley while the sounds of everyday life, and the slightly more terriffying sounds of helicopters whirring overhead had put his mood on edge, and his already frayed temper was close to snapping. He flipped open the phone on the second ring, "Yes?"

"From where you are, there is a park 2 kilometers north. In the park, there is a man waiting with a yellow wristband with his arms crossed. Meet him there, and further information will be divulged."

Zealot did as the Spring Demon asked silently, commiting the man's appearance and facial features to memory as he did so.

"I see." Shmidt said, nodding. He smiled as he sat down, satisfied with Unity's answer.

"Are you going to see the archbishop tomorrow then?" Smith's voice came from the kitchen.

"Yes." the Reverend said. "I've got to hand in my report, and receive our new orders." He looked at Unity again. "Wall, Johnson, myself, and Jacob all report to the Archbishop of Sumguaia, George Claxton. He is the current head of the Abrahamic League high council." He paused for a moment, as an idea came to him. "Perhaps you would like to accompany me miss? Claxton is a friend of mine and Wall's, I think he might like to meet you."

RedEye, the leader of all the Sons of Sagacity, arose as the Generals watched his rise. He sat at the center of the table, and he stood tall and impeccable. He had a mask on, a white porcelain smile on his face as his features were hidden, his hands draped in a black glove as he wore his suit. He spoke through a cackling, evil vocoder, his sword, the longest of all of them, dangling at his waist loosely, the shimmering of the glass hilt staring at them. "Generals, of all those around the world, the declaration of war has been under way. Assar code 3C, present." He spoke, as the Spring Demon rose.

"The ultimatum and the rules of this conduct is a war. It has been nineteen years since we have last gone to war. I do hope that our skills have not rusted, but knowing time, many of us were still young at that time." He looked at them all, his silvery hair touching the brim of the firmness in the light. "Our war does not have an enemy that poses a physical threat, but rather an intellectual one. As a defect, it is our mistake to have let the former Jormungand live, and as such, we are to execute her upon sight." He sat down.

Any declarations from any of the Generals had to be done now.

"If he is fine with me in his presence, I will be honoured to." She spoke with a strained, painful smile, her eyes lifeless, her tone cold and shivering with uncertainty. There was something tugging at the back of her heart, but Unity kept her demeanor.

Zealot remained silent, watching the other Generals.

"You dont look very comfortable with that suggestion." Shmidt said, chuckling. "Is something troubling you then?"

"I think it might have something to do with a fear that we are trying to suck her into working with the AL. Goodness knows I wouldn't want to be involved in another militant organization after having left the Sons of Sagacity." Smith said, poking his head out from the kitchen.

Zealot remained silent, watching the other Generals.

"You dont look very comfortable with that suggestion." Shmidt said, chuckling. "Is something troubling you then?"

"I think it might have something to do with a fear that we are trying to suck her into working with the AL. Goodness knows I wouldn't want to be involved in another militant organization after having left the Sons of Sagacity." Smith said, poking his head out from the kitchen.

"The intelligence reports are simple. We cannot let a former General leave our presence from now on, as they have the potency to divulge information regarding the Sons of Sagacity to other threats." The Leper said, as Medium stood up.

"Then we can just take the most logical path of action, Leper." She had a tone of excitement, a delusional enthusiasm of the oncoming bloodshed. She was, by the feeling and aura she emanated by her presence, the most bloodthirsty of them all. "Don't you have the Ballad hideout location?" Medium asked, turning to stare at the Leper. There were small interventions between the speech, however, as it was broken as she shot her eyes at Zealot, a thinly veiled interest from her visible.

Redeye got up, interrupting them both. "The time to act is now. As such, appointment of forces to attack will be as so. General Zealot, General Crow, General Medium and General Spring Demon will be the ones who will destroy the ballad. The Generals the Lazy Dragon, the Fox Lord and the Leper will be coordinating and commanding forces to ensure that the ballad do not make any extra movements, and myself and General Jormungand will be providing relief to the strike spots." There was a business-like tone in Redeye, and it dawned that the Sons of Sagacity were not a group who planned to destroy and rebuild.

They were a nation without borders, an empire without a single shred of ownership on the map. They were a kingdom of ghosts and now they were going to crush a rebellious province. It wasn't a matter of retribution, but politics.

Zealot's eyes widened momentarily as the Leper spoke. So, they won't ever allow me to leave. So much for a quiet exit then... He looked back at Medium as she spoke, a faint smile on his face. Keep looking at me, it allows me to better memorize your features. He remained silent after Redeye spoke, waiting for one of the others to react first.

The phone snapped shut and Felix motioned to the tense inquisitors to follow him. It would not be difficult eluding Imperial security, he had done so earlier against a entire army group, and now the Emperor thought he was dead. As the three men pulled out into the streets they were immediately caught in the jostle of people, who even more quickly withdrew from the threatening dome of the inquisitors' hoods. As they proceeded though they were stared down by everyone and the attention did not do Felix's nerves any good.

"St. Umberto Park," Felix muttered under his breath. It was not generally considered an attractive tourist location, it had been an urban reclemation project to put up a park next to the Agricultural Ministry. The park was almost entirely used by either government employees on their break or foreign spies, who assembled in the park to feed of their government sources. It was very difficult to stroll through St. Umberto without seeing the Junior Minster of the Fisheries passing a brown paper envelope to a shadowy man over the duck pond. It was perhaps a risky place to meet, but if anything it showed the renewed confidence of the Sons of Sagacity.

There was indeed a man with a folded arms staring down a Cypress tree sternly. Under his sleeve was a faint hint of yellow. "By the pricking of my thumbs," Felix said calmly as he drew level with his companions in toe, "I must compliment you on your speed, I had not intended to meet inside Waldenburg, but it seems we must. Where is Sekai?"

The phone snapped shut and Felix motioned to the tense inquisitors to follow him. It would not be difficult eluding Imperial security, he had done so earlier against a entire army group, and now the Emperor thought he was dead. As the three men pulled out into the streets they were immediately caught in the jostle of people, who even more quickly withdrew from the threatening dome of the inquisitors' hoods. As they proceeded though they were stared down by everyone and the attention did not do Felix's nerves any good.

"St. Umberto Park," Felix muttered under his breath. It was not generally considered an attractive tourist location, it had been an urban reclemation project to put up a park next to the Agricultural Ministry. The park was almost entirely used by either government employees on their break or foreign spies, who assembled in the park to feed of their government sources. It was very difficult to stroll through St. Umberto without seeing the Junior Minster of the Fisheries passing a brown paper envelope to a shadowy man over the duck pond. It was perhaps a risky place to meet, but if anything it showed the renewed confidence of the Sons of Sagacity.

There was indeed a man with a folded arms staring down a Cypress tree sternly. Under his sleeve was a faint hint of yellow. "By the pricking of my thumbs," Felix said calmly as he drew level with his companions in toe, "I must compliment you on your speed, I had not intended to meet inside Waldenburg, but it seems we must. Where is Sekai?"

"He's detained by the enemy. What you seek, he carries with him. The enemy are named the Ballad, and they seek the subjugation of all Sons of Sagacity members, and anyone who has had former relations to the Sons of Sagacity without joining them is a an enemy. There is a war underway by the Lord Redeye, so if you want what Sekai has, then we can help you, if you are willing to help us." He spoke.

Zealot's eyes widened momentarily as the Leper spoke. So, they won't ever allow me to leave. So much for a quiet exit then... He looked back at Medium as she spoke, a faint smile on his face. Keep looking at me, it allows me to better memorize your features. He remained silent after Redeye spoke, waiting for one of the others to react first.

The Spring Demon stood up for their group, and the Generals shuffled to and fro about their own businesses, knowing what to do. The Leper walked past Zealot, stopping slightly to give nothing but a ghastly whisper. "I will warn you. Do not divulge your relationship with Unity to General Medium, and do not take those woman's words to heart. Don't be caught in her web. Be careful." She warned, before walking off.

Crow placed her hand on Zealot's shoulder, waiting for his rise. There was an oddity about Crow that was certainly unique. Her face was stern and yet monotonous, without much emotion or display of thought, but within her eyes, her beautiful yet callous eyes, she had some degree of feeling. There was a softness, a gentleness around her, and despite the brutal, terrible things she had done, her eyes, the windows to her soul, showed a painful scream with every blink. "General Zealot, let's begin." She urged, as the Spring Demon and Medium waited for him.

"Very well." Zealot said, standing up. He made a mental note of the Leper's warning. "Let us get this over with." As he rose, he regarded the Crow, a glimmering of understanding showing on his face momentarily. But what is the cause? Remorse? Self-loathing? Despair? Hatred?

The choppers were high in the sky already, as the four Generals were already within the blackened steel cage of the heli. The rotors spinning, the wind blasting up little torrential storms of miniature dust devils, the frothing and smashing of the whitecaps upon the shores were heard barely through the thick bullet proof glass. The Spring Demon sat quietly in his chair, his arms crossed, his sword dangling at his waist as the Crow sat beside him loyally, her eyes closed and her left hand touching the tip of her sword's handle.

Only Medium was there alone, sitting in the corner, looking out the window with no a sword, but a chaingun tucked neatly in her arms, a sleuth of pistols atop her sash draped over her chest as she smoothed out the creases in her crisp black suit. "General Zealot." She began without looking at Zealot, her tone pretentious. "I hear you've been hanging around my daughter alot. How is Unity doing?" She asked.

"I am not here to make small talk, General Medium." Zealot said, not looking up as he checked an mp5 sub-machinegun, his sword at his side. "As far as I know Unity is well. Now I would prefer if you did not speak to me further unless the topic pertains to our current task."

"Yes of course of you do," Felix pinched the bridge pf his noes tightly, and sighed, "who am I to think that anything is without price. I am told however that naivety and throwing knives do not make an attractive pair, so lead on with your prolix solicitation. What further sins must I incur? You have my word, provided I in turn have yours, that I shall do my utmost to chase your nefarious means and ends. What must I do to receive your assistance?"

"I am not here to make small talk, General Medium." Zealot said, not looking up as he checked an mp5 sub-machinegun, his sword at his side. "As far as I know Unity is well. Now I would prefer if you did not speak to me further unless the topic pertains to our current task."

"A shy one, aren't you?" She asked, as the Spring Demon shot a disapproving stare. "What?" She looked at the Spring Demon who only looked back with the monotonous of faces. They seemed to the be complete opposites of each other, as on one end, the brash and violent Medium was a stark contrast to the calm and generally peaceful Spring Demon.

"General Medium, please refrain from causing anymore discontent amongst the group." He suggested, as she laughed loudly, forcing a frown from the Spring Demon. "Are you that confident to laugh at me?"

Her face turned to furious ash. "Do you forget who is your Exkrucia, Spring Demon?" She asked, her hand on her hilt as the Spring Demon only closed his eyes.

"Threaten all you want, but it makes little difference whether you have yourself or an army when you want to fight me. The only difference would be time." He replied, before the chopper was soon flying low atop a cruise ship in the middle of the ocean, Crow standing up.

"It's time." The Crow said, throwing the wires out of the opened doors, swinging down onto the boat.

"Let's go." The Spring Demon replied.

"Yes of course of you do," Felix pinched the bridge pf his noes tightly, and sighed, "who am I to think that anything is without price. I am told however that naivety and throwing knives do not make an attractive pair, so lead on with your prolix solicitation. What further sins must I incur? You have my word, provided I in turn have yours, that I shall do my utmost to chase your nefarious means and ends. What must I do to receive your assistance?"

We need your assistance to hunt down a few defect members in the area. One of them is quite nearby.

"Finally." Zealot commented, following The Crow down onto the deck. He landed lightly, and stood up, looking around.

Shmidt dozed peacefully in a chair, an open book in his lap and his reading glasses askew. He was awakened suddenly as his cellphone rang. He looked at it sleepily, and sighed with frustration. "It would seem I have an appointment." He said, standing up.

"I just got a new target as well." Smith said, walking past him to the door. "I hope this one doesn't take too long."

"We should be back within an hour or two." the Reverend said to the apartment at large, and the two men left. At one of the pc's Johnson began to laugh to himself.

"Finally." Zealot commented, following The Crow down onto the deck. He landed lightly, and stood up, looking around.

Shmidt dozed peacefully in a chair, an open book in his lap and his reading glasses askew. He was awakened suddenly as his cellphone rang. He looked at it sleepily, and sighed with frustration. "It would seem I have an appointment." He said, standing up.

"I just got a new target as well." Smith said, walking past him to the door. "I hope this one doesn't take too long."

"We should be back within an hour or two." the Reverend said to the apartment at large, and the two men left. At one of the pc's Johnson began to laugh to himself.

"I despise this honor system." Medium replied, taking out her chaingun, having it slung over her back as she walked down into the lower levels of the ship. She left the group, and as she always did, split away from her own deviancy.

The Crow, followed suit in the respect that she had moved away to the southern wing, as the Spring Demon met with Zealot. "I'll go to the north, and try and stall the ship and see where the defect is. I assume you'll want to go west, to the medical bays where my brother is rumored to be?" He asked.

Instantly, gunfire was heard from the east wing. Medium had started.

"Yes." Zealot replied simply, and walked west, down some stiairs to a lower deck. He readied the sub-machinegun he had been checking as he came to a door, and opened it.

Nearly an hour passed after Smith and the Reverend had left, when Johnson's cellphone rang. He opened it, and listened to a voice on the other end for a moment. "You are both finished then? Good. See you then."

He closed his phone, and got up from his desk, walking to the kitchen and closing the door. He turned to the gas stove, and began turning on the jets, not lighting them in the process. He smiled sadistically as he finished, and walked back out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. It would take several minutes for the smell to reach the rest of the apartment, and by then it would already be too late. He grabbed his sniper rifle and left the apartment silently.

"There were only civilians, but there was man who seemed hostile, his gun up and his hand on his belt as he looked at Zealot. "Who are you?" He yelled and queried. "Stop!" He demanded, pressing the red button on his belt. "There's an intruder in the west wing." He spoke.

Meanwhile, the Crow had continued her path, a long bloody trail behind her as her sword cut a thin line into the wooden deck, waiting as a man appeared from the door at the end of the black corridor. He smiled mischieviously, his hand on his handle, putting his gun down into the corner of the hallway into the darkest parts, walking away from it and towards her, his eyepatch placed on as a '3' was visible. "Crow." He smiled gently, unsheathing his sword. "Hello. You stop here."

"I see." Crow spoke, raising her blade. "Then, it's a pity." She extended her blade, and waited for his strike.

"There were only civilians, but there was man who seemed hostile, his gun up and his hand on his belt as he looked at Zealot. "Who are you?" He yelled and queried. "Stop!" He demanded, pressing the red button on his belt. "There's an intruder in the west wing." He spoke.

Meanwhile, the Crow had continued her path, a long bloody trail behind her as her sword cut a thin line into the wooden deck, waiting as a man appeared from the door at the end of the black corridor. He smiled mischieviously, his hand on his handle, putting his gun down into the corner of the hallway into the darkest parts, walking away from it and towards her, his eyepatch placed on as a '3' was visible. "Crow." He smiled gently, unsheathing his sword. "Hello. You stop here."

"I see." Crow spoke, raising her blade. "Then, it's a pity." She extended her blade, and waited for his strike.

"Who am I?" Zealot asked, and laughed. "Why, I am God's vengance upon the wicked. I am the righteous executioner. The bloodthirsty faithful. The fanatic. The zealot." He continued, smiling maliciously and taking a step toward the man as he spoke each phrase, his eyes slowly reddening. When he was four feet from the man, he drew his sword, opening fire with the submachinegun in his other hand as he did so.

Several minutes after Jonson's exit, the Reverend opened to door to the apartment. "Well, I'm back" he said to the flat at large, walking in as he wiped blood off of his cross. Looking around, he noticed that Johnson wasn't at his desk. "Would you happen to know where Michael is?" He asked, walking over to Unity.

"I would question such directives, who are you to be handing out judgment and death on a whim, but on the other hand, what is there to do? How close exactly, what is his name, his description, defenses, I'm sure I need not elaborate on the subjects, but how is he to be killed?"

"Who am I?" Zealot asked, and laughed. "Why, I am God's vengance upon the wicked. I am the righteous executioner. The bloodthirsty faithful. The fanatic. The zealot." He continued, smiling maliciously and taking a step toward the man as he spoke each phrase, his eyes slowly reddening. When he was four feet from the man, he drew his sword, opening fire with the submachinegun in his other hand as he did so.

Several minutes after Jonson's exit, the Reverend opened to door to the apartment. "Well, I'm back" he said to the flat at large, walking in as he wiped blood off of his cross. Looking around, he noticed that Johnson wasn't at his desk. "Would you happen to know where Michael is?" He asked, walking over to Unity.

As the bullets riddled the man, the blood danced and splattered onto the walls with a lavished shine. The coat of the gloss disturbingly disgusting, the stench of rot and flesh was already lingering in the air. The man groaned in pain, before another rumbling was heard down the hallway. Soldiers rushed through the blackness bit by bit, trying to avoid the risk being gunned down in one go.

"Men, take both sides, carry out a defensive position! We need to get those civilians out, and take the man down with whatever you've got!" The captain yelled.

Upon the drawing of her sword, Crow waited. "Are you so fickle as to not attack me?" She asked her opponent who only smiled back.

"I'm not so stupid to go on the offensive against an opponent who has been ranked as invincible. It would be like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object." He raised his hands in a dramatic sigh. "But! I'm not unstoppable force."

"I would question such directives, who are you to be handing out judgment and death on a whim, but on the other hand, what is there to do? How close exactly, what is his name, his description, defenses, I'm sure I need not elaborate on the subjects, but how is he to be killed?"

"We are all that we need to be to hand out judgment, as no deity will bother to do it." He flipped open a book, handing to Albemier a list of names and faces all within the nation. "Defects, all of them." He answered.

As the bullets riddled the man, the blood danced and splattered onto the walls with a lavished shine. The coat of the gloss disturbingly disgusting, the stench of rot and flesh was already lingering in the air. The man groaned in pain, before another rumbling was heard down the hallway. Soldiers rushed through the blackness bit by bit, trying to avoid the risk being gunned down in one go.

"Men, take both sides, carry out a defensive position! We need to get those civilians out, and take the man down with whatever you've got!" The captain yelled.


Zealot smiled contemptuously, and stood for a moment regarding the men, before sudenly rushing towards them at an unnatural speed, firing what remained of the clip in his gun down the hallway at the group as he charged forward to slash at the first of them.

The first few fell, and while there were no deaths, it wasn't a poor and wild enough blaze to have only wounded them. As the second layer prepared themselves, their hands on their machetes, the captain yelled immediately an odd command. "Desist!" He cried, as from the back, in the shadows, a long haired, glossy black shimmered man stood forwards, his hand on his sword - a long and jagged blade cracked and broken save for its curved spine, wrapped in a thin ghostly cloth. He wore the old tattered remains of a beautiful uniform wrapped with a watery, fluid rhythm, flowing in what seemed to have been a nonexistent wind.

From here, a man with the familiar face spoke. An eyepatch over his left eye, he bore a large scar of a gash across his abdomen, looking at the man with a veiled interest. "You became a General." He said to Zealot with calm. "I became a Ballad." Sekai continued.

"It's as if god wanted us to kill each other." He spoke with acknowledgement, rubbing the smooth surface of his eyepatch, revealing a golden 5. "Let's see if a General can die."

The first few fell, and while there were no deaths, it wasn't a poor and wild enough blaze to have only wounded them. As the second layer prepared themselves, their hands on their machetes, the captain yelled immediately an odd command. "Desist!" He cried, as from the back, in the shadows, a long haired, glossy black shimmered man stood forwards, his hand on his sword - a long and jagged blade cracked and broken save for its curved spine, wrapped in a thin ghostly cloth. He wore the old tattered remains of a beautiful uniform wrapped with a watery, fluid rhythm, flowing in what seemed to have been a nonexistent wind.

From here, a man with the familiar face spoke. An eyepatch over his left eye, he bore a large scar of a gash across his abdomen, looking at the man with a veiled interest. "You became a General." He said to Zealot with calm. "I became a Ballad." Sekai continued.

"It's as if god wanted us to kill each other." He spoke with acknowledgement, rubbing the smooth surface of his eyepatch, revealing a golden 5. "Let's see if a General can die."

"Oh, I'm rather certain God wants me to kill you." Zealot replied, with a smile that made him look utterly maddened, his eyes completely bloodshot and his breathing unnaturaly quick. "I hope you've managed to gain some skill though, or this will be rather anticlimactic." He continued, walking towards Sekai. "After all of the trouble you've caused me, it would be dissapointing for you to fall too easily. Try to put up more of a fight this time." As he finished, he sprung forward, his sword swinging in a wide horizontal arc, aimed at Sekai's abdomen. It was not a strike meant to cause injury, but to destabalize the opponent as they blocked it, all of Zealot's strength having been placed behind the blow.

"I see my brother has finally made his move." The Spring Demon spoke, sitting at the end of a long oak table, his fingers upon a cup of tea as Christina sat across from him, smiling politely as she sipped hers. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" He asked, her nod only answering his question.

"Many years. Many, many years. Almost too long." She replied, putting her tea down. "An embarrassing run, but the Sons of Sagacity finally caught up to me, haven't they? How's Redeye?" She asked.

"He's fine. Leading the clan as well as usual." The Spring Demon answered. "Your prediction was right, Christina."

"Oh?"

"All those years ago." He placed his tea down, and stood up, his sword in his hand, sheathed in gold and silver ornamental wires as if it were a purely ceremonial blade. "You said that I would be the end of you." As he unleashed his sword, it sung. It rang with a harmonious clatter, humming with joyous bloodlust as Christina smiled.

"Yes, I did predict that." She rose. "But I was wrong many times." She unsheathed her own.

Meanwhile, at the battle between Zealot and Sekai, dodged down this time, not bothering to take the shot as he twisted up with monkey-like flexibility, his feet pushing against the wall as he was jettisoned high into the air. Arms raised in a downward stroke, he swung at Zealot's head.

Zealot's sword went into the wall on the other side of Sekai, passing through it. His hand came up as Sekai swung, the blade stopping mere inches from his face as he caught it. He laughed, blood flowing from his palm, the act of catching Sekai's sword having caused a deep gash to appear. "Not bad."

"As bloodthirsty as ever." Sekai said, tightening the wraps around his blade. "You do remember what lurks upon my sword, do you not?" He queried, holding it tightly.

Meanwhile, the Crow was being pushed back by the swift movements of her opponent. "You're fast, little boy." She said, as the man only chuckled, slashing down into her leg as she stopped immediately. "But it's done." Taking her sword, she stabbed him in the stomach, her sword protruding from the other end as he gurgled and spat out blood with furious disgust. "And you're unable to use your full strength. Pitiful."

"Ah, yes, that." Zealot replied. "Somehow though, I doubt you have an immunity to that gas, and I don't intend to allow you the space to utilize it without exposing yourself." He continued. As he spoke, his hand clenched tightly around Sekai's sword, and upon finishing, he wrenched it towards himself for the purpose of pulling his opponent off balance, using his other hand to swing his own blade at Sekai's head as he did so.

Letting the sword go, he only stretched out the end of the handle as the chain unraveled, pulling it up to block the strike as he kept his control, his stance firm and his feet pushing back as he wrought the sword free from Zealot's hand. Sekai didn't smile nor chuckle. He never taunted nor relished with visible enjoyment. "You're an attentive one." Sekai replied. "Yes, I don't have an immunity to the gas that would be released if I unraveled this."

"So, I'll have to use that." He said, looking at the floor as he spoke. His sword held back, his blade's end pointing at Zealot from a reasonable distance, he stared with his shoulder pressed down. "I will show you a General can die."

"Oh, I hope they can, as I may be forced to kill one or more in order to escape this nightmare that you dragged me into." Zealot replied, no longer smiling. He stood, closing his eyes momentarily, his expression blank. "I'm afraid I wont be the one to die today though." He continued, opening his eyes to stare at Sekai. "I simply have too much to live for."

With that, he charged once more, swinging again with a heavy horizontal slash. His strike was too soon however, and his sword passed through the air a foot from Sekai. For a fraction of a second it seemed as though he had misjudged the distance and would be caught off balance, then he twisted his body slightly, and the blade came around again even faster. The angle of the strike had changed, now a vertical blow, whistling downward at Sekai's head.

Sekai pushed himself to the side, letting the blade shear off a few threads of hair, a tiny cut on my shoulder as the tip touched the end. "I see." He replied, his sword swung up, stabbing down slowly, precisely, almost as if to goad Zealot into attacking.

Zealot dodged the blow easily, stepping to the side and bringing his own sword around for a sideways stab at Sekai's midsection. As he did so, he felt puzzled as to why his opponent had attacke dwiht such a weak blow, but by the time he became suspicious of Sekai's movement he was already halfway through his own strike, and had no choice but to continue it.

OOC Well this was a long time in coming. And Jenrak I just looked at your factbook, dear God that's impressive.

IC
Felix flipped through the folder page by page, carefully hiding it from any prying eyes, “Colonel Mixlon? He’s a defector? He was a son, there is someone who cloaks their nature and abilities most aptly.” The folder was closed and Felix smiled, there were only three names, only two of which he would have to deal with, Colonel Mixlon, a loud and good natured, officer of the Serene Legion, and a Knight of the Imperial Heron who lived the life of a shut in near the suburbs of the city. He had meet Mixlon briefly once at a Church oriented Christmas party, and had liked the man for the way in which he never seemed to listen to what you were saying and could not notice such distinguishing marks, such as an inquisitor’s hood.

“I go, and I will return,” Felix bowed slightly and snapped his fingers to his two inquisitors who also bowed, and then set off after their master.

“Mixlon,” Albemier whispered once they were on a path cutting through the park and probably out of the range of any prying ears, “if I recall correctly, is a man of parties and a man of atmosphere. He would not waste such precious time remaining to him merely at home; he shall be out, enjoying life. In that case, and due to his precedent amongst the Serene Legion officers, he will be attending the Annual Officers Ball at Redding House, where we shall meet our required directives.

“How does sir intend to assault Redding House?” One of the Inquisitors whispered to him as they continued to crunch through the detritus on the path.

“An idea, will I am sure present itself, as it is now. I have always been under the impression that plans, and predefined courses of action imbibe the very disorder, which they originally were laid to eliminate. I will not require your assistance for the evening, it shall be easy enough, return to the chapel of St. Tristen and wait for me, it will only be a few hours. For the event however I will be needing a somewhat altered guise, if perhaps you could assist?”

It took several hours of digging, rummaging about in the small shops that the inquisitors tolerated only for their usefulness in both information and rather more delicate items that even the Church disapproved of. Some of the more mundane amongst these were a black tailcoat, a pair of white gloves and a pair of shiny black shoes. Some of the more questionable items had been quite easy to find, although when purchased in the amounts he wished, but once the cash had been produced doubt slipped away to a happy smile to see the back of the rather strange man, from this alley.

--

With proper steps and a strait back Felix strode up the small mound that lead to the bulk of Redding house, a Tudor style demipalace. A cobbled walk meandered gently around a private lake, which reflected the happy smiles of happy couples as they too meandered out of the house, and unto the manicured lawn. Serene Legionaries also lined the lawn, in full dress uniform, and carrying various regimental banners. Felix however strode through it on the principle that, provided you look busy, no one would intercept you. In his dressed as a hundred other gentlemen climbing the walk he became just another appendage within the moving forest of tails and top hats. It seemed the door was to be more of a problem, on it were four armed members of the Serene Legion checking invitations, and more importantly gently fingering their M-16’s. At this point Felix detached himself from the group and cut left to the lake where he joined the luxuriating couples, and began to overhear their light and above all meaningless conversation. He had been a prisoner to the Cenobiarch an, inquisitor before that, and an orphan before even that, he felt a small burst of anger as he rounded another decorative plinth. Above all things he wished to bring the elegance and frippery come crashing down. He had tried so desperately the first time, and it seemed only to have emboldened them, in their hour of need they had turned to the Church, and as Felix’s eyes climbed upwards to the Cenobiarch’s personal standard flying above the house, he realized how dearly he paid. He also realized the Cenobiarch was in attendance.

Albemier’s feet nearly rearranged themselves under him, and before he had composed himself he had almost rushed for the gate, it had been six months in the cells with Dr. Retirun, there was perhaps room for one fear in his life. Eventually, with the aide of decorative fountain, he regained his composure, and after a moment’s of searching he found the servants entrance, which was unlocked and bustling with the business of all kitchens everywhere.

“Sorry I’m late,” Felix pushed open the door and pulled on his gloves, “I was kept late.”

A hassled woman looked at him and in a moment discarded her doubt, “well good, all hands are on deck for this. The buffet’s almost away, I don’t suppose you can play the viola?”

“No not well.”

“Shame we just lost second chair to Baron Harzlen, you’ll be on drinks I suppose, just stay away.” she paused for a moment while grabbing a silver tray from a counter, “I’m sure you’ll be able to tell. Now get out there!” As he walked away from the woman, who appeared to be at the center of a complex and intricate dance that filed through the kitchens then back into the ball room, drinks appeared one at a time on his tray and by the time he hit the door, and he paused to straighten his bow tie, a friendly hand pushed him forward and out the out the grand double doors.

Couples swirled like elegant snowflakes, iced and delicate, their feet barely touching the floor in their minuet, their chins never lowering. It too was a machine of perfection as if each dancer, had been given explicit instructions beforehand and were now concentrating not on what was being said, their partner, or the chamber music gently springing from the slightly reduced ensemble, but only on the position of themselves within the great game. Through it however it took no time at all to find Mixlon, he was within a group of similarly dressed aristocrats who fanned about the man like a retinue and were laughing uproariously, and occasionally receiving nasty glances from the orchestra who seemed to be playing a constant crescendo to drown out the man.

“Ah no, that’s not it, you see the giraffe never got out of the refrigerator, it couldn’t possibly attend the meeting!” Again the crowd exploded apparently at the expense of a young army officer, who smiled politely and grew slightly read around the ears.

With a purpose Felix began to slip through the waltz, which was slowly becoming a full-blown symphony as the conductor slowly lead his comrades up the staff, and from below his podium produced a pair of cymbals. With one deft hand Albemier scooped up an empty snifter from one of a hundred aimlessly placed table, a disappeared behind a potted shrub. When he exited there was a full snifter, alone on the tray, and what multitude of flutes stuffed into the shrubbery.

Politely Albemier squeezed his way through the admirers of Colonel Mixlon, and as close as it was possible drew level with the man. “Colonel Mixlon?”

“But apparently the same crocodile was. Ah what?”

“The Duchess of Pembroke sends her regards, as well of a glass of 1898 Imperial reserve Single Malt.” Felix bowed and lowered the tray. Mixlon’s eyes lit up as he took the glass and gently sniffed it.

“The Duchess is too kind, any occasion?”

“She did not say sir.”

“Of course not, well thank you my boy, I’ll” at the moment the outside there was a explosion, and a slight rumble, which took the immediate attention of the military officers and men surrounding Mixlon who rushed to the windows to see what the issue was. Mixlon on the other hand was standing in a puddle of expanding Imperial Reserve on the marble floor, and looking livid. “Oh damn!” Felix was equally livid and as he watched the glass spin out of the man’s hands, he saw his plan spiral down with it. The Colonel wiped a spattering of alcohol off his pants, and as he stared down something caught his eye. A small token which had apparently been in his glass, a token with an eight pointed sun etched into one sides.

“Who gave this to you?” Mixlon had suddenly gone very quiet and with a strength that did not seem to be in him pulled Felix by his bow tie till they were ear to mouth. Felix hardly had to feign his fear.

“The Duchess did, she was by the kitchen door, she” he was inventing wildly, “she had the glass waiting as I came out, and she gave me a suggestive look sir.”

“How suggestive?” Mixlon, with alacrity that Felix thought beyond the man, began to scan the room carefully.

“Both eyebrows,” Felix stated back timidly

“That little bitch!” Mixlon whispered, “go home now, leave and don’t come back, if I see you again, let’s just say I know some people who don’t people, these people know knives, now leave.” With hand on saber the Colonel began to stride through the waltz unlike Felix he simply barged through, a flamethrower to the crystalline snowflakes of the upper class.

Demurely and given a moment Felix followed there were no eyes on him, they were wither on the conductor who had taken the moment to begin assembling a timpani, or Mixlon’s disappearing back
--

“Come out you little whore!” The saber pommel pounded on the door of the Duchess’ suite. It had been lucky his screaming “Whore,” and his sword blade waving erratically through the air had tipped the women off of Mixlon’s intent. “I knew they’d send one of you, leave me be.”

“I’m afraid that is beyond us sir,” Felix appeared from around a corner and bowed slightly.

“I told you to leave!”

“The brotherhood sends its regards.”

“Ah” Mixlon pulled his sword away from the door, and lowered it to waist height and directed it at Felix, “the butler did it? How quaint, and yet so very dumb. I may not have your reputation Felix but I am a brother as well, you think you can kill me so easily? You are not even armed.”

“I am not unarmed, I am simply without a weapon,” from behind him Albemier pulled the silver serving tray.

“Ah very impressive, but it seems I bought a gun to this freak show.” With a lightning fast movement a 9mm was being drawn from a side holster and fired from the hip at an even faster moving gust of wind where the former high inquisitor had been standing. “Come now, brother come fight me!” Mixlon began to stride down the hall with his saber in his hand, and his pistol held at the hip. In perhaps a more effective attack than most of his enemies would attempt Mixlon ducked around the corner and fired three rounds into the wall, where Felix was most patently not waiting.

Underneath Mixlon’s pistol Felix pushed up with his serving stray and smashed the saber to the wall and the pistol spinning into the wall. Felix rolled towards Mixlon on the floor and brought the edge of his tray onto the man’s wrist, in the same movement brought the tray up to smash the colonel’s face in.

“Damn you,” Mixlon shot a knife on his sleeve and brought it around in a wide arch to Felix’s neck which was parried by the tray. At this point the two were locked, both incapable of moving without giving the opponent the upper hand, this was slightly difficult, and it seemed Mixlon was at a disadvantage, and it seemed Felix was gaining ground with his serving tray which slowly pressed towards the man’s neck.

“What did I do? I only..” The tray hit the man’s neck and with a slow sawing action, on an improumtly sharpened handle began to sever the throat of Mixlon who only managed a small sigh before gently expiring. After Felix was entirely sure the man was dead he slowly stood up, brushed his jacket down and straightened his bow tie.

“Your Grace?” Felix knocked on the door of the Duchess’ suite, “He’s gone now, you can open the door.” With a click and a slow pull the door swung open the reveal an elderly women clutching to a letter opener. It seemed little match for the heavy tray, which shot out an instant latter and struck the woman’s neck.

OOC Ah, thanks ^^

Using the momentum he had gained slightly from the attack, he immediately shifted his weight and twisted his wrists slightly to block Zealot's stab and parry it away. "I may not be able to match you for physical strength, but that won't be a problem." He spoke, stabbing slowly once more.

Meanwhile, the man had sent a phone call to the receptionist at Felix's location. "Yes?" She answered, her tone pretentious, her voice dull. "Can I help you?"

"I need to talk to a man. Please page, if possible. Just say that someone needs to talk to a certain someone. He should know." The man spoke to her.

"Uh..."

"Just do it." His voice stressed, his words pained, as if he was under an enormous amount of pressure, the heavy breathing heard on the other end of the line.

"It will if you cant kill me quickly, or should fail to dodge even once." Zealot replied, blocking the stab and pushing Sekai's sword back with his own. He moved forward as his did so, making the two mere inches from one another in order to force Sekai to either back away or fight in a proximity where Zealot's superior strength could be used to it's full advantage.

It would take no genius to discover the two bodies that had been inexpertly tucked into a closet within the Duchess' suite, or indeed the bullet holes in the walls, but Felix felt slightly comforted. He however did not enjoy the fact that the man, Mixlon, when no one else within the country, had known he was alive. And when a page shouted out, slightly confusedly, that there was a message for "a certain someone" completely startled the man.

As the Inquisitor stepped back into the dance floor, it seemed that there was a huddle of about one hundred or so party goers clustered around the tiny front office at Redding House, where one harassed looking woman manned, the glass booth and luckily had not opened the box yet to the public. In a dash Felix was there banging on the door, and hinting as much as possible he was trying to be of help. The girl hesitated a moment but eventually slid open the door, which Felix squeezed through and had locked behind him.

"What do we do at a time like this?" The receptionist asked anxiously.

"We should not have taken the call, and from this point, not have the footman shout out that we have a message for 'a special someone' it's just a prank. Yes?" Felix began to stroll to the phone, as the woman nodded to herself, said a small prayer, then opened the door to the ever more excitable crowd.

"What? I'm working," Felix asked in a terse whisper once he had the receiver in hand and was sure, the woman was being brow beaten by the guests, "What could possibily be so important?"

"It will if you cant kill me quickly, or should fail to dodge even once." Zealot replied, blocking the stab and pushing Sekai's sword back with his own. He moved forward as his did so, making the two mere inches from one another in order to force Sekai to either back away or fight in a proximity where Zealot's superior strength could be used to it's full advantage.

While Zealot's strength was certainly admirable and high-level, Sekai's level of skill and fluid motions allowed him to dodge brutal attacks with relative safety. There was an etch of experience on both sides, and when Zealot pushed Sekai's sword away, he pressed upwards with his hands to ensure his sword danced high into the air, the singing of the blade wading down as the shimmering tips stabbed downwards.

From down the hallways, footsteps could be heard. "The Fox Lord's orders have changed." A sly, but soft voice spoke, as the bloodied footsteps of Medium's feet traced the floor in long, snaking cherry lines. "General Zealot, we will need to capture Sekai for torturing." She said, watching Zealot, the steam from her barrels still as white as ghosts.

Meanwhile, Christina stood in utmost surprise, her arms cut and her face slightly nicked, and while there was a little blood from her body, she wasn't entirely hurt. She was only scratched to her, and she held her sword out at arm's length as she felt the rattling of the handle as it waited. The Spring Demon, however, only stood there, his unsheathed blade already tasting the sweetness of blood, the crimson waters dripping from the edge a small trail as dots decorated the velvet floor. "I underestimated the Exkrucia system." She said. "It seems I still have much to learn."

"It's futile to learn." The Spring Demon cut her off. "Even if you took a hundred years to learn, your purpose is still locked in stone and untouchable. It'll be the same purpose over and over again, and that is simply the purpose to die by my hands. As the duty of your Exkrucia, I will eliminate you as per my honor. Do you understand, former Jormungand?" He asked, his sword readied.

"I understand." Her placed her blade on the side, allowing it to rest on her shoulders, her left leg outstretched, her body bent slightly. "You want to die that much, don't you?" There was no light-tone in her voice, no ebb of formality. She wanted to kill.

It would take no genius to discover the two bodies that had been inexpertly tucked into a closet within the Duchess' suite, or indeed the bullet holes in the walls, but Felix felt slightly comforted. He however did not enjoy the fact that the man, Mixlon, when no one else within the country, had known he was alive. And when a page shouted out, slightly confusedly, that there was a message for "a certain someone" completely startled the man.

As the Inquisitor stepped back into the dance floor, it seemed that there was a huddle of about one hundred or so party goers clustered around the tiny front office at Redding House, where one harassed looking woman manned, the glass booth and luckily had not opened the box yet to the public. In a dash Felix was there banging on the door, and hinting as much as possible he was trying to be of help. The girl hesitated a moment but eventually slid open the door, which Felix squeezed through and had locked behind him.

"What do we do at a time like this?" The receptionist asked anxiously.

"We should not have taken the call, and from this point, not have the footman shout out that we have a message for 'a special someone' it's just a prank. Yes?" Felix began to stroll to the phone, as the woman nodded to herself, said a small prayer, then opened the door to the ever more excitable crowd.

"What? I'm working," Felix asked in a terse whisper once he had the receiver in hand and was sure, the woman was being brow beaten by the guests, "What could possibily be so important?"

"We are very near to capturing Sekai. Finish your job, and meet me at the same location when you first met me." He spoke in a slightly cryptic, though obviously hushed tone. "If you want something from him, end it as quickly as possible as he is being taken soon."

Zealot blocked Sekai's stab, but did not counterattack in turn. "I see." He said, addresing Medium. "How dissapointing." He took a hand off of his sword, drawign a handgun and pointing it at Sekai's forehead. "You can come without resistance or I can injure you fiest, I really have no preference as to which."

"How unsavory." He commented, as the soldiers rushed into action, forming a human wall cloistered around him as their layer upon layer of shields created a tight barrier. Guns cocked, they aimed towards Medium and Zealot. Medium frowned.

"This is ridiculous." She commented, turning to Zealot. "Do you think they have the balls to shoot?"

"I don't know" Zealot replied casually, seemingly unaware that multiple weapons were being aimed at him, while putting a hand into qa pocket. "I do hope that they dont, killing all of them would be a waste of time. I wonder if they'd hand him over if we agreed to spare them? After all, we need not kill every single grunt to accomplish our goal here."

"Dollface, give up your men if you care about them." Medium ordered. "Come quietly, cause I'm sick of working right now. I'm too tired, so be a good boy and come here."

Sekai frowned. "How boisterous are you, woman?"

"Not as boisterous as you." She frowned, her hand slowly creeping to her trigger. "Come on, Dollface. Don't be a dick, here."

"While iI'm not sure I would have used the same wording, my colleague is correct." Zealot said, taking a step towards Sekai. "Further resistance would be useless and a waste of both our time and your men's lives. So as the General Medium says, be a good boy and come quietly."

Medium looked at Zealot for a brief second, signaling him to prepare. The message was clear - she would paralyze Sekai, and Zealot would deal with the rabble of bodyguards defending him. Hopefully, Zealot had seen her signal.

Fingers slightly sweating in her continued grasp, Medium swung her arm back, her free hand grasping with speed and experience towards a small pistol attached to the back of her belt, pulling it out as she fired a single clean shot into Sekai's neck, a small needle-like tranquilizer-shaped projectile lodged in the skin of his throat. Sekai began to collapse, trying to pull it out of his neck, but the fingers began to seize up and the arms began to freeze.

"F-Fuck, woman." Sekai argued.

OOC: get on yahooim tomorrow when/if you can
IC:
Zealot put his pistol away as Medium looked at him, blinking to show that he understood. As the dart struck Sekai's neck he sprang forward, slashing at the first of the men as he drew the submachinegun he had been using previously and firing a spra of bullets at the rest, while ensuring that he did not include Sekai within his line of fire as he did so.

"Captured." Medium said, grabbing Sekai's hair, pulling back as she took out the needle, an alcohol swab pressed against his throat as she lunged him over her shoulder. "Where's the Spring Demon?" She asked. "Do you remember where he said he'd go?" She fired a round at an oncoming enemy.

Christina, in her room, was down on the ground, groaning and muttering in pain as she tried to get up, the torrential gutting of blood from her mouth spewing out onto the floor. "D-Damn it." She moaned, as the Spring Demon, untouched and pristine, only swung his blood stained sword elegantly.

"Flotsam like you have no permission to carry on an organization." He bemoaned and lectured.

"North." Zealot said simply. "He wanted to deal with the "defect" himself, i think." He continued, wrenching his sword from a man's chest. "I must say madam, I applaud your resourcefullness in this situation." She will not be easy to kill should it become neccesary.

Medium's eyebrows were raised. "I appreciate the compliment, Zealot." She answered. "You actually do something, unlike Red Eye and the others, so I'm grateful for your cooperation." She ran her fingers along Sekai's neck, feeling the slight caved flesh where the needle had paralyzed his throat. "I need to call the Fox Lord to get his men over here to pick up our prize."

Meanwhile, Christina groaned, coughing up blood amidst an unharmed Spring Demon, his eyes merciless, his sword thirsting for blood. "The fuck." She answered, as the Spring Demon sighed.

"Flotsam."

"I see." Zealot replied. "In that case, I will check the north wing. I dont doubt the Spring Demon's ability, but I wish to ensure that Ms. McDonald is dealt with, as I would be displeased if a disgrace such as her managed to escape death."

As he finished speaking, he began walking north, looking for Christina or the Spring Demon.

Clashing could be heard at the end of a mahogany door, as within it the Spring Demon smashed blades against Christina with extreme brutality. Tired and sick of fighting long, drawn out battles, he was intent on crushing her with all his might as he swung down with a sweeping strength that belied his fragile and lifeless appearance. With every stroke, the floor creaked in his powerful blows, Christina's blade cracking under the immense force.

"Is that all you've learned to do?" He asked, swinging down as she blocked it, but his blade had hit the end of her handle on purpose, a small cracking noise as Christina's wrist began to inflame. "Don't be so naive. You can't change shit." He dropped his elegant demeanor, and with the striking hatred of an old friend tasked to do a difficult job, intended to finish it.

Out of breath Felix came dashing around a decorative pine tree, his gloves in a fir tree some distance behind, and his shoes scuffed from a one mile dash across the city center. A flock of geese exploded from the path as he thundered down it and bent around a curve to see the same man, who seemed to hardly have moved an inch from his original position, and seemed to nearly have a small girl licking an ice cream cone hanging off his arm.

As Felix approached the girl gave him a lopsided look and took off equally fast as the Grand Inquisitor had arrived. "Yes? Where is he, your traitor is dead by the way, but what of Sekai?

Zealot slowly walked towards a door at hte end of the hall, where the sounds of conlict were originating, hearing the Spring Demon speak as he did so. He turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, revealing the scene within. Zealot leaned against the doorframe, observing the two fight. "Still no regrets, Ms. McDonald?" He asked in Sumguaian as he addressed Christina.

Out of breath Felix came dashing around a decorative pine tree, his gloves in a fir tree some distance behind, and his shoes scuffed from a one mile dash across the city center. A flock of geese exploded from the path as he thundered down it and bent around a curve to see the same man, who seemed to hardly have moved an inch from his original position, and seemed to nearly have a small girl licking an ice cream cone hanging off his arm.

As Felix approached the girl gave him a lopsided look and took off equally fast as the Grand Inquisitor had arrived. "Yes? Where is he, your traitor is dead by the way, but what of Sekai?

"He is caught and being transferred to our base in the north of a nation called 'Jagada'. It's there that you'll find him. Transportation is being prepared, though I'd like to ask something."

Zealot slowly walked towards a door at hte end of the hall, where the sounds of conlict were originating, hearing the Spring Demon speak as he did so. He turned the handle of the door and pushed it open, revealing the scene within. Zealot leaned against the doorframe, observing the two fight. "Still no regrets, Ms. McDonald?" He asked in Sumguaian as he addressed Christina.

The autumn leaves fell upon the tall castle's walls, the brisk smell of the ocean blasting against the truncated stone battlements as across the tall walls of one of the turrets a single figure stood, her eyes far off into the ocean as she belied a shimmering emerald stare in her eyes. The disc of the fiery sun before her was slowly dipping into the endless ocean, the azure haze giving off a ghastly appearance as the ghostly moon already was thick in the blanket of clouds high in space. She sighed gently. "A new one, huh?" She said, as a figure walked up behind her, his hand patting her back in a brotherly affection, his smile wide and bright.

"Of course, General." He answered, his stare almost like an unconquerable laughter. "Although, there's perhaps the new guy, isn't there?"

"Yeah, he's a new member of the Exkrucia, isn't he? I wonder if the Spring Demon is fine with him." Christina answered, as the young man chuckled briskly. "What? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, General." He quipped, as Christina frowned.

"Senba, you're a frightening one. You're a sick and sadistic bastard, and on top of that, I'm not sure what you think of sometimes." Christina quipped.

"I'm sorry, General Jormungand." He sarcastically apologized. "I didn't know that it was such a testy subject for you."

"I'm not sure what kind of subject it is for me." Christina replied. "It's just...a subject, you know?" She answered. "I...I don't know. I just hope that the Fox Lord is capable of managing things properly, because we just had a new Redeye right now." She answered, her fingers tapping against her body as he smiled reluctantly. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"Nothing. I don't know. Nothing." He replied. "But...a new Exkrucia, isn't it? I haven't heard of one in a long time."

"Whose is it?" She asked.

"Yours, General." He murmured. Christina smiled with amusement.

"So, he's my kryptonite, huh? Name?"

"Serego Hamruun, a pretty noble boy from the middle of nowhere." He responded.

***

Christina's tongue replied in Sumguaian. "I'll never regret it. Everything I've done, I'll never regret it." She groaned and muttered, blood coughing up as the end of a blade touched the tiny paper-thin sheet of her skin, the small dribble of blood flowing smoothly from her neck as she cupped and closed it. Her eyes stark in fear, she stared at him with surprise. "You're going to do it?" She asked the Spring Demon, whose stare belied a simple frown.

"No, I won't." He replied, his eyes lifeless, though for some reason, there was a hint of remorse in his stare. "I won't kill you. I lost." He answered, sheathing his sword once more.

Zealot sighed. "How dissapointing, blind to your own error even at the point of death."

As the Spring Demon spoke, Zealot's eyes widened slightly, and after a moment he stepped into the room, walking slowly toward Christina. "If you will not kill her General, then I shall, unless you have any objections."

"Even if I had objection," The Spring Demon answered, "I have no authority to stop you. You and I are of equal ranking." He stopped, his eyes looking at Christina for one last moment. "Christina." He answered.

"What?" She snapped back angrily, clutching her wounds.

"Since we've met, I've had the same line of thought." He sighed, closing his eyes as he swallowed his cold pride to admit it. "I'll never consider falling in love with you a mistake."

She bit her lip, blood trickling down. "Thank you." She whispered, tears from her eyes. "Thank you, Serego."

"Don't cry." He answered, walking away even faster, almost to a sweeping job. "Don't cry, because I'll end up crying too."

But she cried.

As the Spring Demon dissapeared from view, Zealot laughed. A cold, mirthless, hate-filled laugh, as his face was transformed into a fearsom mask of disgust. "To think that animals such as you could even know what such an emotion is." He said, drawing his sword, lookign directly at Christina as he spoke. Something in him seemed to have been released, and his eyes were entirely bloodshot, as cold anger eminated from him. "Fool. See where your malevolence has brought you." He walked forward, grabbing Chrisitna's shirt and pushing her into the wall, shaking with rage. He seemed to see her not as a person, but an embodiement of all that he hated. His voice was barely above a whisper, yet he spoke with more intensity than he could have if he were screaming at her. "You and your kind have caused all of the misery on this earth, all of the suffering. You bring it upon yourselves and the rest of us, for what? You selfish, blind fools." He said, bringing his face inches from hers. "Even those of us who fight you, who refuse to allow you to bring ruin upon us, it is we who are most subject to the misery you spread. All that we cherish you would destroy, and all that we admire you would corrupt. All this because you are too weak to work for any good but your own, too blind to see beyond your own desires, too arrogant and foolish to realize your own insignificance."

He seemed almost on the verge of tears, as he brought the blade of his sword up to press against her neck. "Give me one reason not to remove the taint of your pathetic existence from this earth."

She felt pain, heard sorrow, tasted the flying sweat on her lips as her trickled gently, her eyes glazing over slowly as her hands ran along Zealot's blade slowly, a tiny prick on her fingers as the blood smoothly trickled. Finally, she had reached the handle, then the hands, her mouth quivering as her fingers touched his shoulders, grasping them softly. She shook in fear. "It's gone." She whispered to herself. "It's gone. It's gone, it's gone." She answered. "Oh god, it's gone." She cried. "I...gone. Please, just kill me now."

Outside, Crow stood with the Spring Demon, walking along the blood soaked corridors as they talked casually. The stench of rotting flesh was pungent, the smell of sweet drips of crimson water filling the rooms with a burning snare, Crow's eyes met the Spring Demon's with a motherly concern. "Are you sure it's the right decision? She ran to Sekai after you. She's not entirely over you."

"She's wanted to die all this time." The Spring Demon. "I merely answered her desire, since she didn't know it at the time. All this loneliness, all this darkness, it's just not the kind of time that I can push away and let gone." He returned to his calm, cryptic self, his fingers on the handle of his sword.

"And you make her suffer?" Crow stared at the Spring Demon's sheathed sword. "You actually used it?"

"I had to. I had to make her feel so much pain that she wanted to die." He sighed. "Even if I had to use it."

"A poisoned sword, huh? I can't believe it."

But in that room, there was nothing between the blind Christina and the furious Zealot. Only the trickling of blood from her eyes and ears as her innards began to liquefy.

Zealot stared at her, his expression of anger now mixed with pity. "As you wish. May god have mercy on your soul." he said simply, and pushed the blade that had been resting across her neck forward. He closed his eyes, blood spraying into his face as the sword cut through Christina's neck. After a moment, he wrenched himself and the weapon away, and took a few steps toward the door. He grabbed the doorframe, leaning against it for suport as he shook, as a small cry of rage and sorrow tore itself from his throat. He stood leaning against the door for almost half a minute before straightening up and walking back down the hallway, his expression one of disgust.

The Spring Demon sighed, closing his eyes as he rubbed his temple. "Another job well done." He stared at Crow, who had closed her eyes to prevent meeting his. She would be unwilling to be sucked in farther into the world she was already in. "How's your daughter?" He asked, as she shrugged, opening her eyes. "Is she doing well?"

"She's in high school right now. Dating a boy almost double her height." She replied casually.

"Jesus. That's...idiotic." The Spring Demon answered, turning around his cold eyes to stare at the oncoming Zealot. He nodded almost to himself. "General Zealot, as disgusting of a position this is, you need to have some sort of respect for General Medium. She, as the leader of the Genekrexia, carries this daunting task day by day." He took out a small golden necklace, drenched in the crimson nectar of blood as he pressed his fingers upon its wiry surface, the embedded gold digging into his skin as blood trickled out gently from his phalanges.

"Another job." He pressed even harder, tears forming on his soulless face. "Another job." He whispered, grasping the necklace before pocketing it, walking away quickly with the wisp of his cloak sweeping behind him.

Crow joined Zealot, her hand on her shoulder. "What do you plan on doing with Unity?" She asked.

"I am going to get her away from this through any means neccesary, and do all that I can to ensure that I endanger her as little as possible." Zealot replied. He paused for a moment, then continued, his expression unreadable. "General Crow, I will never be able to accept my place within the Sons of Sagacity, and will never cease working to destroy it for as long as I am alive. Therefore, when and if the time comes, I wish for you to be the one to kill me."

"So much responsibility upon my shoulders, General Zealot." Crow commented, the surprise faint was audible within her voice. "General Medium would be your killer, but if her attitude isn't one you want to die by, then I will by all means be more than willing to kill you when the time comes." She flicked her sword, a noise within ringing as she sheathed it slowly.

"General Zealot, you are not alone within the Sons of Sagacity. Many don't feel at home, mainly because we, like you, have been torn away from our outlets to the rest of the world or have come to rely on the organization. It's a symbiote that grants desires, but at a terrible price." She sighed. "The Sons of Sagacity will fall one day, General Zealot, and I'm making sure I'll be able to see it collapse. Will you promise me that you'll be there as well, to watch it too? With Blackracket, the Spring Demon, General Jormungand. With Nike, with Silvereyes. With Unity. With everyone hurt by the world it wants to create."

"I will be there, God willing, but I do not intend to merely watch, General." he smiled bitterly. "Though I should clarify, the fact that I was torn away from my former life is the least of my reasons to hate this organization." He looked at her for a moment. "I don't think I will much mind dying by your hand."

"And why me?" Her eyebrows were raised in skepticism. "Are you afraid of the pain of death? That perhaps I am the one who will deliver swift and painless execution upon you? Or are you so sickened of the rest of the Generals that you cannot trust them to kill you with pride?"

"The latter, I am afraid." Zealot said, sounding slightly bored. "I care not wether I die with pain, any amount that can be inflicted upon me cannot surpass what I have already experienced. Any fear for myself left me ore than a decade ago." He stated this not as a boast or confesion, but as a simple statement of fact.

"Old tongues taste little blood, Zealot." Crow answered. "If you can't feel the pain, you can't relish in the taste of war. Or is it that you've already grown tired of it?"

"Neither, I have never enjoyed it." Zealot said. "The only reason I pursued a a career of a violent nature is because I happen to be very good at killing, and wished to use my talents to a positive end. That goal has made me somewhat incompatible with the Sons of Sagacity."

"Oh?" She stopped. "Usually someone who is good at killing enjoys it because it's one of their strengths. It seems to me that you might be suppressing your natural tendencies, General Zealot." She replied.

"So be it." Zelaot replied. "I am not willing to act contrary to my beliefs merely because I happen to be good at something. I have never once enjoyed the actual act of killing someone, it has never given me any satisfaction."

"I see you and Jormungand are very similiar. Two peas in a pod, I might say?" Crow replied.

"Are we? Perhaps at first glance, though I doubt that we are similar under the surface. I wouldnt know though, as I am rather ignorant of Jormungand and his motivations. How do you think he and I are similar?"

"Both you and he were taken advantage of by RedEye, met the Sons of Sagacity fighting their assassins, and fell in love with members who no longer hold titles. In addition, you both carry deluded senses of morality that prevent you from carrying out certain killings in your own belief and elitist views. Or, perhaps, I am wrong about you?" Her eyebrows were raised.

"Both you and he were taken advantage of by RedEye, met the Sons of Sagacity fighting their assassins, and fell in love with members who no longer hold titles. In addition, you both carry deluded senses of morality that prevent you from carrying out certain killings in your own belief and elitist views. Or, perhaps, I am wrong about you?" Her eyebrows were raised.

"I am afraid you have described me accurately, madam." Zealot said, chuckling lightly. "I thank you for the information regarding General Jormungand, you may have just made what I hope to accomplish in my time with this organization quite a bit easier." He laughed again, with a mirth that masked disgust. "I would hardly call a reluctance to commit murder 'elitism'. Trust me madam, if I were to lose my 'deluded' sense of morality, it would not be good for anyone that I came into contact with. In fact, it is all that is keeping me from actively doing all I can to kill every one of you." He smiled. "I could probably cause the deaths of several of the Generals and countless underlings. Afterward, it wouldnt be too difficult to make myself unfindable, considering the resources I have at my disposal. None of you could escape some of the weapons that i could turn against the Sons of Sagacity were the Hegemon to be harmed, and that will be turned against you if I die. If i did have the morality to value the lives of my countrymen, this ship would have been destroyed the moment we arrived. If not for my delusion, you would likely be dead."

"I am not the Lazy Dragon. I won't sprinkle the world with pretty words and philosophies. But, I will say this - the Sons of Sagacity has been impregnable for the longest time and stood unharmed and unchallenged by the nations of the world as they watched the world pass by. But a fortress, no matter how strong, how unbreakable, can fall if its commander decides to let it fall." She stared at Zealot with ambitious, calculative eyes. "If the commanders make it fall." Closing her eyes, Crow sighed as she dipped her chin up to the ceiling, breathing gently out through her mouth.

"The main strength of the Sons of Sagacity revolves around the leadership and tenacity provided by its Generals. Killing a General is not as easy as it looks. It took ten years to kill Christina McDonald, and even she was not one of the high three. Imagine just how difficult it must be to kill the Spring Demon, the Fox Lord, or even Redeye." Crow sped up her pace. "But, that's when a General fights a General." She took her cellphone, turning it off, and took her finger, pushing it into the side of her neck, a small 'clicking' noise heard as she sighed. "You're not alone in wanting this organization dead, General Zealot. However, there's a difference between killing something and thinking you killed it, only to have it come back stronger and more vicious than ever before."

Another click was heard. "That's why I still exist. To make sure that they will soon cease to."

"The flexibility and resilience of the Sons of Sagacity is precisely why I have not made any attempt to attack the Sons of Sagacity yet, ma'am. I was merely stating that had i not a sense of morality and responsibility to do all that i can to destroy the Sons of Sagacity, I would have acted to satiate my own selfish hatred for those currently aboard this vessel and arranged a missle strike upon this ship, which I realise would have done little to actually damage the Sons of Sagacity. I am fully aware that no amount of brute force can destroy the Sons of Sagacity, as the Abrahamic League is istelf similarly versatile in nature, if a bit more open in some of it's activity. Only from within can such an organization be destroyed, either through a slow rot of incompetence and corruption, or by turning against itself."

He looked puzzled for a moment at the General's behavior as she finished speaking, wondering as to it's purpose. He sped up to match her pace as she walked,

Meanwhile, far off, Unity looked quizzically as she only shrugged without knowledge. "I'm not really sure where he is." She answered plainly.

Crow continued, their long walk down the hallway heavy with conversation. "Unity is an important girl to me, General Medium, and the Fox Lord. She doesn't fall in love often, and I'm not sure why she fell in love with you, but you need to take care of her, because there are people who still want her dead. But it's moot if you're dead as well. Do you understand, General Zealot? I need you to promise, not to me, but to yourself that you'll never die, because the damage it would do to her frailty would be unbearable."

"I see." Shmidt replied, looking slightly worried. He began walking through the apartment. As he opened the heavy door to the kitchen he began coughing, as he was nearly overwhelmed by the smell. A faint hissing noise could be heard as gas escaped from the stovetop jets. Shmidt quickly walked back to Unity. "We need to leave. Now." He said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to her feet.


"I understand, General." Zealot said simply, nodding. "Her well-being is my primary concern, and I will do all that I can to ensure her safety and my own." This was said without any emotion, as though it were a mundane fact that was beyond any doubt or argument.

Unity was unsure. "What? Why?" She asked, though still keeping pace.

"Then, let's get to our debriefing." The Crow requested, walking to the end before they felt the rush of the sea again. "I guess we'll have to wait a little bit for another chopper to come by."

Shmidt grabbed his cross, which was leaning agaisnt the wall next to the door out of the apartment, and led Unity out. "Because," He said as they walked down a hallway, his pace increasing, "I beleive Michael may be attempting to kill you."


Meanwhile, half a block away from the apartment building, Johnson loaded an explosive round into his sniper rifle, a sadistic smile upon his face. He took aim through the window of the apartment, and fired.

The apartment exploded, launching flaming debris into the road and surrounding area as jets of fire burst from it's windows. Shmidt pushed Unity to the ground and dropped beside her as a portion of the wall to their left was blasted apart, showering them with plaster and peices of wood. Small peices of flaming rubble littered the hallway. After a few seconds Shmidt stood up, pulling a large peice of glass out of his arm. "That was far too close, I'm getting sloppy. Are you alright?" He asked, extending a hand to help Unity up. "We'd best get out of this building as soon as possible, as depending on the size of the explosion the structure may have been significantly weakened."


"Very well." Zealot said, continuing to keep pace. He suddenly tensed up, his eyes widening as he stopped in midstep. One of the small crosses sewn into his leeve had lit up, and emitted three high-pitched beeps.

Unity's eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion. "Wait, why?" She asked, running along with him, before she felt the explosion, and at the end, the glass was visible in front of her. "Oh god, sir." She panicked. "You're bleeding. You're hurt. Okay, okay, I need to just help you here." She ran her fingers through her hair, breathing calmly. "Okay, we need to get you to a hospital, okay?"

Crow raised her eyebrows. "What's going on?" She asked, as the whirring of the chopper was audible in the distance.

Shmidt couldnt help chuckling. "I'll be fine, miss. It isnt serious, I'm in no great danger." He drew a knife from his pocket, and cut off a strip of cloth from his sleeve, tying it around his arm. "Please, calm down. Follow me, we need to get out of here as soon as possible." He began walking quickly down the hall to a fire escape door. "I suspect Johnson is trying to kill you because he beleives that you are some sort of corrupting presence, and because for some reason he jsut doesnt liek you. I'm afraid the boy has always been a bit unstable and sadistic, we had thought that we had instilled enough moral discipline in him to overcome his natural malicious tendancies. It would seem we were mistaken, and that you have brought out his true nature. It is very important that you understand how perilous a situation we are in right now. Michael is without doubt one of the most dangerous men alive. If you see him, run, for your chance of survival will be almost non-existant otherwise."

Zealot's face had gone pale. "Something has gone wrong." He said simply. "I must get back as soon as possible."

"But where will we go?" Unity asked. "I-I can see if I can call for backup. Maybe my dad?"

The Crow's eyes widened. "Very well, I guess we'll have to do something first. Is he likely still with Unity? If so, the men I have in that area can defend them until they're in a safe zone so that the Gedeskria can move in."

"But where will we go?" Unity asked. "I-I can see if I can call for backup. Maybe my dad?"

The Crow's eyes widened. "Very well, I guess we'll have to do something first. Is he likely still with Unity? If so, the men I have in that area can defend them until they're in a safe zone so that the Gedeskria can move in."

"Backup f such a nature would be useless I think, ma'am. Large numbers f armed non-AL men would give away our location, and he would likely be able to kill all of them in a matter of seconds. Men from the League are already on the way. A vehicle will arrive soon, and transport us to a safehouse." Shmidt replied, smiling. "I have a tracking deice on me, which is currently emitting a distress signal. We will likely need noassistance from your father for now. The League will be of much more help to you, as we know and practially control this country. Also, If anyone will be able to track Johnson, a near impossible task, it will be us." He opened the door and walked out to the fire escape, extending the steel ladder. He stood for a moment in anticipation, and smiled. "It would seem we are not in his line of sight. Good." After you, miss." he said, gesturing to the ladder.

"I do not think that will not be neccesary, General." Zealot replied. "If the man who sent the distress signal and Unity are still alive, they will be moving very quickly, and it would be difficult for your men to track them. Besides, all AL executioners are equipped with small tracking devices that enable the League to know their locations at all times, so AL troops are already on their way to assist. An encounter between agents of the Sons of Sagacity and Abrahamic League would likely lead to violent conflict between the two groups, and I have no wish for a war between our organizations...yet. I must leave as soon as possible however, as he has sent a signal to me specifically, seperate from the generic distress signal received by the AL intellligence department."

OOC: how does Crow know what the nature of the distress call was, or who it was from?

OOC: She could only guess on what it was about when Zealot said that something was wrong. It's wild shot in the dark.

IC:

"Alright." Unity said, scrambling towards the ladder, her heart thumping, her fingers shots, her mind rattling as the heat of the action was getting to her. She was frightened, under siege, her body sore and tired and her sanity on the table. Grasping the cold, coppery metal, she heard clanging as she quickly rushed up, looking up to see if he was following her. "Where does this lead?" She asked.

"I see." She said, closing her eyes. "So it was that." By the time the chopper had arrived, Crow had boarded it and sighed, looking at the endless oceans as the ticking of the bombs on the ship were heard. "Goodbye, Kayla." She whispered to the dead, to Jormungand. "It's been fun."

OOC: She could only guess on what it was about when Zealot said that something was wrong. It's wild shot in the dark.

IC:

"Alright." Unity said, scrambling towards the ladder, her heart thumping, her fingers shots, her mind rattling as the heat of the action was getting to her. She was frightened, under siege, her body sore and tired and her sanity on the table. Grasping the cold, coppery metal, she heard clanging as she quickly rushed up, looking down to see if he was following her. "Where does this lead?" She asked.

"I see." She said, closing her eyes. "So it was that." By the time the chopper had arrived, Crow had boarded it and sighed, looking at the endless oceans as the ticking of the bombs on the ship were heard. "Goodbye, Kayla." She whispered to the dead, to Jormungand. "It's been fun."

OOC: the ladder goes down, it's a fire-escape ladder.

IC: "It leads to an alley between the building we were in and another apartment building." Shmidt said from above her. "Stay calm miss, we will be out of any danger soon." His voice was cheerful and soothing, it's tone reassuring in nature.

Zealot boarded the helicopter and sat down, remaining silent.

OOC: Alright, fixed.
IC:

It didn't help Unity at all. With shaking hands, she pressed herself down, the tug of gravity pulling on her body as her weight seemed to have doubled in mass, the yanking stronger than ever as she moved with panicky feet. "Alright, alright." She murmured to herself, finally jumping off.

Crow handed Zealot a pin. "Here." She said, her hand outstretched. "If you need my assistance, break it, and I'll be there as soon as I can.

OOC: Alright, fixed.
IC:

It didn't help Unity at all. With shaking hands, she pressed herself down, the tug of gravity pulling on her body as her weight seemed to have doubled in mass, the yanking stronger than ever as she moved with panicky feet. "Alright, alright." She murmured to herself, finally jumping off.

Crow handed Zealot a pin. "Here." She said, her hand outstretched. "If you need my assistance, break it, and I'll be there as soon as I can.

"Miss, I think perhaps you should sit down." Shmidt said, "help will be here soon, we need not move yet, as Michael is probaby not aware that we survived. Will you be able to control yourself and keep from panicking? If not I can give you a very mild sedative to help you calm down."

"You have my gratitude, General." Zealot replied, taking off the small cross-shaped button that had flashed earlier. "Likewise, you need but press this twice and it will notify me, and send your location to my colleagues, should you ever have need of our services." he said, taking the pin and handing her the button. He looked at the pin. "So how does it work? A circuit that emits a signal when broken?"

Unity breathed slowly and steadily. "Alright, alright, I'm fine." She said. "So, do we wait...or...?"

"Yes, it is." Crow answered, closing her eyes, sighing gently as she collected her thoughts. "Just snap it, and I'll know."

"We may wait or move, whichever you prefer." Shmidt said, taking out his cellphone and dialing a number. "Hello?"

"Who is this?" A voice belonging to an AL soldier asked on the other line.

"This is Thomas Shmidt, I sent a distress signal less than five minutes ago."

"Oh, I see. Well reverend, I've been told to connect you to Colonel Garret. One moment."

After several seconds, anoter voice spoke on the line. "This is Garret, whats the nature of your emergency?"

"I am afraid that code C8 has occured, colonel." Shmidt said grimly.

The Colonels eyes widened in shock. "Has he killed anyone yet?"

"No, he attempted to kill myself and the woman known as Unity, through causing an explosion in his apartment. It blew out most of the floor, so there may be a number of civilian casualties."

"I see, I'll get a team of paramedics there as soon as I can. Does he know where you are?"

"No, He is probably nearby still, looking to make sure that we are dead."

"Alright, we've pinpointed his tracking device, he's waiting outside the entrance to a building opposite the northern side of yours. I have a dozen men already almost there, I'll have them bring him in. A car will be waiting a block to the south to pick you up."

"No! don't try to arrest.." Shmidt started to say, but the Colonel had already hung up. He turned to Unity. "A vehicle will arrive shortly a block to our south, it will take us to safety. I suggest we go now."

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Very well." Zealot said, looking out the window, impatient to arrive at their destination.

"Alright, lead the way." Unity answered.

The chopper didn't take too long to travel, as it wasn't that long before they finally arrived at a patch of empty grass outside Zealot's country, Crow looking back at him. "Hurry up." She spoke monotonously, tired.

"Very well." Zealot replied, and exited the vehicle. After walking a short distance away to get away from the sound of the rotors, he took out his cell hone and dialed a number. "Hello, this is Wall. I need transportaion to Sumguaia. My tracker is on, just ask intel where I am and they will tell you. A helicopter would be preferable. Alright, goodbye."

He immediately called another number, and Shmidt picked up on the other line.

"Yes?" Shmidt said, and was slightly startled when Zealot spoke feircely into the phone.

"Where is she?!"

"Who, Unity? She's right here, do you want to speak to her?" Shmdit asked, chuckling.

"You know damn well that I do."

"Fine, fine." Shmidt held the phone out to Unity. "It's Wall."

Unity fumbled the phone slightly, though was able to press it up to her ear. She was, for all intents and purposes, still mentally fragile after the operation. "Lord General?" She asked, her voice in some relief.

Meanwhile, Crow sat quietly, her fingers tapping across from Redeye's stare, her arms crossed across her chest as she looked monotonously without excitement towards him. "Yes, Redeye?"

"Elana, I've heard rumours." Redeye began. "Rumours that aren't very pleasent."

"What rumours?"

"What are you planning against me?" Redeye's hand were tight upon the glass in his hands, his fingers running along the cold, hard surface. There was no pompous amusement in his voice. Only the frigid, hard rigidity of anger.

Crow's eyebrows were raised. "Is your all seeing eye failing on you, Lord Redeye?" She rose, turning around, stopping only once. "Everything I do, I do for you, Lord Redeye. I'm appalled that you would consider me as one who would break faith with the organization's beliefs, and yours." She continued her pace, the clanging of her shoes upon the icy marble floor, the door slamming loudly.

Redeye placed his glass cup down gently on the table. "What happened to you, Elana?" He whispered in question.

Only a snap was heard as the cup broke.

"Are you alright?" Zealot asked. "I am on my way there."

A block to the north, twelve AL soldiers waited in front of a building adjacent to the apartment, facing the entrance. The doors opened, and Johnson emerged from t building, apparently unarmed.

"Alright, sir, we need you to come with us." One of the men said. "i'm afraid you are under arrest."

Johnson smiled, and reached into his coat, drawing a pair of handguns. Two seconds later, the last of the men began to fall, a bullet lodged in his skull. Johnson leaned down to the man who had spoken to him, closing his eyes as blood pooled onto the asphalt below. he stood up again, and threw his ehad back, laughing.

As Shmidt heard the burst of gunfire, his face paled slightly. "The car is just around this corner, miss." he said, guiding Unity along.

Unity followed as Schmidt directed, unsure of what the situation was, her eyesight still faint. The throbbing, pulsating excitement in her blood, the nervousness in her body, she wasn't entirely all knowing in what was going on, but at least, at the very least, Zealot was on his way. That was the bare minimum of the safety she felt.

"What's going on?" Zealot asked, as he ehard the beat of helicopter blades in the distance.

Shmidt led Unity to a black car with tinted windows, and opened the door, getting in beside her. The driver pulled out of where he was parked immediately after they had entered.

"Where to?" He asked.

"The League headquarters." Shmidt replied. "Take us by the scene of the explosion first."

The building was still in flames as they passed, the siren of a fire engine slowly growing louder. As they passed, the bodies of the dead AL members came into view. Shmidt frowned. "He's progressed farther than I had thought.."

"League headquarters? Why there? Is the Lord General meeting us there?" Unity asked.

"League headquarters? Why there? Is the Lord General meeting us there?" Unity asked.

OOC: I may or may not have internet access next week, so i may not be able to post

IC: "Lord General? Where are you getting these titles from, my dear?" Shmidt asked, chuckling. "The League Headquarters is one of the most secure places within the Holy Empire, we will be safe there. The Archbishop is there, and so yes we will be meeting him, as I was to turn mine and Wall's report in tomorrow anyway. Please inform Wall that we will be there, so that he may meet us."

"Just let him know?" She asked, her hand clutching the phone.

"Yes." Shmidt replied, frowning as he took a small pen and ad of paper out of a pocket and made a note of something.

"Alright." Unity paused. "We'll be meeting at the League Headquarters. Mr. Schmidt told me to tell you."

"I see." Wall said. "I will be there later today."

"We will be arriving momentarily." Shmidt said as the car drove towards the city center. "Its only two miles from the apartment. the car is mostly for protection."

Unity's eyebrows were raised. "What's the chance he'll hit the car?"

"Almost nonexistent." Shmidt replied. "These windows are tinted, so he wouldnt be able te see us inside, nor did he see us get in the car, so he will not be looking for one. He probably still thinks we are dead, and therefore is likely focusing on escaping League pursuit before executioners are sent after him."

The car stopped in front of a large building, around which were dozens of guards. "Dont worry, Johnson wouldnt dare come here at this point." Shmidt said, getting out and walking around to open the door for Unity. "This place is far more secure than it looks."

"Alright." Unity answered, her fingers beginning to trickle with a deep excitement, the nerves from the base of her knuckles to the tips of her fingertips starting to crackle and flicker, her eyes glistening with a sort of longing for the exhilaration. There was something latent within her that she wished to awaken, and there was something within her that she couldn't shake off. "I hope this ends soon." But there was something in her voice that said otherwise, a chaotic hum in her tone that danced at the noise, that perhaps, she enjoyed the intensity of the situation, the mindlessness of the hunted. A sadistic joy in being subservient.

"Alright." Unity answered, her fingers beginning to trickle with a deep excitement, the nerves from the base of her knuckles to the tips of her fingertips starting to crackle and flicker, her eyes glistening with a sort of longing for the exhilaration. There was something latent within her that she wished to awaken, and there was something within her that she couldn't shake off. "I hope this ends soon." But there was something in her voice that said otherwise, a chaotic hum in her tone that danced at the noise, that perhaps, she enjoyed the intensity of the situation, the mindlessness of the hunted. A sadistic joy in being subservient.

Smidt looked at her for a moment, the shadow of a thoughtful frown on his face. "You know," He said. "I dont think you would have made a bad executioner. I think perhaps you should be glad you arent one, it is not a path for those who seek happiness or self-benefit."

He smiled cheerfully, silent laughter in his features. "So, are you going to get out of the car so that we may head inside, or am I to hold this door all day?"

"Please don't extrapolate like that." She frowned, taking her time to spite him, turning around to check the inside of the car before she finally got out completely, stretching on the spot. "It's not good to rush things." She queried without the hypocrisy hitting her.

"Oh, like in the case of you and Wall, eh?" Shmdit asked, chuckling. "That's enough sass from you, young lady. Respect your elders."

He turned around and began walking towards the large doors that were the entrance to the Headquarters of the Abrahamic League. "And considering I just saved your life, I think you should be making an effort not to be insolent."

"Pft." She answered, her eyes crunched up in a passive brow, indignant yet also knowing the light tone in his voice. "Fine, fine." She capitulated, hurrying out. "How long will it be, though?"

"How long will what be?" Shmidt asked. As he spoke, a guard approached.

"Identification please." The guard said, stopping in front of Shmidt.

"Oh, of course." Shmidt said, taking out a wallet and showing the guard a small card. "I have a guest with me."

"Very well, sir." The guard said. "Is your guest armed?"

"Oh, yes, she is." The preist replied, smiling. "Don't worry, I vouch for her, she is no threat."

"I see. Well, since you vouch for her, reverend, she wont be required to surrender her weapons. The Archbishop is awaiting you in conference room seven." The guard stepped aside.

"Come on now." Shmidt said, motioning for Unity to follow. "Best not to keep him waiting." He continued, walking inside.

"The Archbishop?" She asked, eyes squinting in suspicion.

"The Archbishop?" She asked, eyes squinting in suspicion.

"The Reverend George Claxton is the chairman of the League's high council." Shmidt explained. "I've got to discuss the reports of mine and Wall's that i turned in yesterday, and he wants to meet you." They walked down a hallway, passing a number of secretaries and men in League military uniform. "He commands the executioners, such as myself, so I also need to inform him that Johnson has gone rogue and request that more executioners be assigned to assist us."

He stopped before a door, and opened it, walking inside. A cheerful looking man in his early fifties was sitting at a long tab;e. he was dressed in a black suit and was wearing a pair of reading glasses. On the table before him were a number of large files. Scattered among them were detailed sketches of each of the Sons of Sagacity Generals, as well as Unity, Sekai, Blackracket, and several other Sons of Sagacity members.

George Claxton looked up as the door opened, revealing Shmidt and Unity. "Ah, Thomas, right on time as usual." He said, smiling. "And you must be the woman known as Unity, it is a pleasure to make your aquaintance. Please, sit." He said, motioning to two chairs on the other side of the table.

"The Reverend George Claxton is the chairman of the League's high council." Shmidt explained. "I've got to discuss the reports of mine and Wall's that i turned in yesterday, and he wants to meet you." They walked down a hallway, passing a number of secretaries and men in League military uniform. "He commands the executioners, such as myself, so I also need to inform him that Johnson has gone rogue and request that more executioners be assigned to assist us."

He stopped before a door, and opened it, walking inside. A cheerful looking man in his early fifties was sitting at a long tab;e. he was dressed in a black suit and was wearing a pair of reading glasses. On the table before him were a number of large files. Scattered among them were detailed sketches of each of the Sons of Sagacity Generals, as well as Unity, Sekai, Blackracket, and several other Sons of Sagacity members.

George Claxton looked up as the door opened, revealing Shmidt and Unity. "Ah, Thomas, right on time as usual." He said, smiling. "And you must be the woman known as Unity, it is a pleasure to make your aquaintance. Please, sit." He said, motioning to two chairs on the other side of the table.

Unity crunched her eyebrows, looking somewhat worried before trudging cautiously towards the chair, sitting down warily. "How fast does information travel in this country?" She whispered.

Unity crunched her eyebrows, looking somewhat worried before trudging cautiously towards the chair, sitting down warily. "How fast does information travel in this country?" She whispered.

"Not as fast as it would seem." Shmidt replied. "I gave the archbishopdetailed reports from both myself and Wall on what has been happening for the past month yesterday." As he spoke, Claxton smiled smiled. "I assure you miss, no-one within this building other than myself and Thomas knows your name, or your former occupation."

He frowned, looking at a sketch of the Crow. "From what I have gathered from your report the members of this organization are incredibly powerful as individuals. This is very troubling, as it renders our usual methods of dealing with such threats useless. There are but two advantages we appear to have over them. The first is that our power is concentrated into this nation for the most part, and should they act here we would be able to bring a much greater portion of our resources to bear than they would at one time. The second advantage that I see is unity. Oh, not you, my dear." He said, chuckling. 'but rather unity the ideal. These Sons of Sagacity appear to distrust and despise one another, and seem only to be held together by their generals and a shared hatres for what they consider to be weakness. This may greatly hamper their ability to act as a whole effectively. We, on the other hand, are greatly unified. Acting in unison is second nature to our agents and soldiers, and through exploiting this fact we may be able to maintain the upper hand in any future engagements between our organizations."

He leaned back in his chair. "The way I see it we have two ideal outcomes. The first is that somehow we are able to simultaneously kill this Lord Redeye fellow and every one of his generals, effectively cutting the head of of the snake and throwing the organization into chaos and infighting, as many clamor to claim positions as generals. The second ideal is to eliminate Lord Redeye and have Wall take his place, allowing us to control the organization through him and contain its evil, and destroy it. In either case we will likely have to sacrifice much, and endure great losses, and failure may mean our own destruction, but I am willing to pay any price to see the Sons of Sagacity become no more than a memory."

Claxton looked over at Unity. "I need your opinion miss, do you think the League has any chance of success in accomplishing either of these outcomes?"

"Not as fast as it would seem." Shmidt replied. "I gave the archbishopdetailed reports from both myself and Wall on what has been happening for the past month yesterday." As he spoke, Claxton smiled smiled. "I assure you miss, no-one within this building other than myself and Thomas knows your name, or your former occupation."

He frowned, looking at a sketch of the Crow. "From what I have gathered from your report the members of this organization are incredibly powerful as individuals. This is very troubling, as it renders our usual methods of dealing with such threats useless. There are but two advantages we appear to have over them. The first is that our power is concentrated into this nation for the most part, and should they act here we would be able to bring a much greater portion of our resources to bear than they would at one time. The second advantage that I see is unity. Oh, not you, my dear." He said, chuckling. 'but rather unity the ideal. These Sons of Sagacity appear to distrust and despise one another, and seem only to be held together by their generals and a shared hatres for what they consider to be weakness. This may greatly hamper their ability to act as a whole effectively. We, on the other hand, are greatly unified. Acting in unison is second nature to our agents and soldiers, and through exploiting this fact we may be able to maintain the upper hand in any future engagements between our organizations."

He leaned back in his chair. "The way I see it we have two ideal outcomes. The first is that somehow we are able to simultaneously kill this Lord Redeye fellow and every one of his generals, effectively cutting the head of of the snake and throwing the organization into chaos and infighting, as many clamor to claim positions as generals. The second ideal is to eliminate Lord Redeye and have Wall take his place, allowing us to control the organization through him and contain its evil, and destroy it. In either case we will likely have to sacrifice much, and endure great losses, and failure may mean our own destruction, but I am willing to pay any price to see the Sons of Sagacity become no more than a memory."

Claxton looked over at Unity. "I need your opinion miss, do you think the League has any chance of success in accomplishing either of these outcomes?"

Unity paused. Even she didn't know the exact details of how the Sons of Sagacity worked, nor the exact details of who supported them, how they were supported, and why they were continued to be supported still. Of course, it was logical and appropriate to take Redeye's words - that they were being supported and continue to garner support through the swaying motion of economics; as long as those who were rich got richer and the poor stayed only long enough to sustain the vampiric nature of the wealthy, then the Sons of Sagacity lived forever. But what about Crow? What about Jormungand? And what about Christina MacDonald, the alias of the woman adopted who became the figurehead of all that was rotten within an organization already shattered? What of the Spring Demon and his rebellious brother? What had they to yet hide within the darkness of the infinite wastes of the organization?

Questions still lingered about, and silently, carefully, they were being brought into the interrogation lamp, but many still thundered through the darkness, boastfully unattainable. Dark, dark secrets of forgotten pasts, ancient feuds and everlasting greed. Who was the villain? Even Unity didn't know this, but from what she knew, what there was to know in her position as the daughter of one of the generals, she spoke. Both in a longing sense to see that the world she had helped build be better without them, and perhaps, a world of a better future after a lifetime of chaos. She looked at him, hesitating slightly as to her safety, and the safety of Wall, but she nodded in silent agreement of her choice.

"There's a few pieces of information that's not official within the Sons of Sagacity that will prove critical. Lord Redeye, is a figurehead, of most. He commands the Sakrianda, a varied group that does what he commands. Otherwise, they have no power over other things. Only Lord Redeye commands appropriately." She paused. "But, there's a problem. While Lord Redeye is the leader of the Sons of Sagacity, he's...incompetent. He hasn't made any successful actions within his term. Normally, the Sons of Sagacity would have crumbled under such shoddy leadership, but..." She paused.

"...can you ensure to me that what I will say, you won't write down? I'm not sure I can verify this information, nor am I sure this will not be seen by members of the organization." She asked.

Unity paused. Even she didn't know the exact details of how the Sons of Sagacity worked, nor the exact details of who supported them, how they were supported, and why they were continued to be supported still. Of course, it was logical and appropriate to take Redeye's words - that they were being supported and continue to garner support through the swaying motion of economics; as long as those who were rich got richer and the poor stayed only long enough to sustain the vampiric nature of the wealthy, then the Sons of Sagacity lived forever. But what about Crow? What about Jormungand? And what about Christina MacDonald, the alias of the woman adopted who became the figurehead of all that was rotten within an organization already shattered? What of the Spring Demon and his rebellious brother? What had they to yet hide within the darkness of the infinite wastes of the organization?

Questions still lingered about, and silently, carefully, they were being brought into the interrogation lamp, but many still thundered through the darkness, boastfully unattainable. Dark, dark secrets of forgotten pasts, ancient feuds and everlasting greed. Who was the villain? Even Unity didn't know this, but from what she knew, what there was to know in her position as the daughter of one of the generals, she spoke. Both in a longing sense to see that the world she had helped build be better without them, and perhaps, a world of a better future after a lifetime of chaos. She looked at him, hesitating slightly as to her safety, and the safety of Wall, but she nodded in silent agreement of her choice.

"There's a few pieces of information that's not official within the Sons of Sagacity that will prove critical. Lord Redeye, is a figurehead, of most. He commands the Sakrianda, a varied group that does what he commands. Otherwise, they have no power over other things. Only Lord Redeye commands appropriately." She paused. "But, there's a problem. While Lord Redeye is the leader of the Sons of Sagacity, he's...incompetent. He hasn't made any successful actions within his term. Normally, the Sons of Sagacity would have crumbled under such shoddy leadership, but..." She paused.

"...can you ensure to me that what I will say, you won't write down? I'm not sure I can verify this information, nor am I sure this will not be seen by members of the organization." She asked.

"You have my word, miss," Claxton said, smiling. "that nothing you say here will not be recorded in any form. If you so desire the League is also willing to place you under it's protection for as long as you may wish."

He picked up a mug of coffee that was sitting on the table, taking a sip. "Also, what you say will likely to have little bearing upon wether Wall is placed in danger. We intend to attempt to destroy the Sons of Sagacity whether success is likely or not, but we do not yet know the best method or if success is likely, and need such information to plan appropriately and prepare for our destruction should we lose a conflict with the Sons."

"You have my word, miss," Claxton said, smiling. "that nothing you say here will not be recorded in any form. If you so desire the League is also willing to place you under it's protection for as long as you may wish."

He picked up a mug of coffee that was sitting on the table, taking a sip. "Also, what you say will likely to have little bearing upon wether Wall is placed in danger. We intend to attempt to destroy the Sons of Sagacity whether success is likely or not, but we do not yet know the best method or if success is likely, and need such information to plan appropriately and prepare for our destruction should we lose a conflict with the Sons."

She sighed. Oh well. It didn't change much, anyways. Sitting straight, she nodded to herself slowly. "Alright." She confided. "Lord Redeye rules by fear. As inept as he is to most of us, his Sakrianda are good at spreading that fear. The problem with that is that most of his manpower, even the Master Generals, are there because he has them somehow by the throat or directly fear him. Lord RedEye is a General who controls the organization through information." She frowned. "But I know that there are Generals who aren't happy with what the organization is like, and some Generals who aren't happy with the current RedEye."

She pointed up a finger. "The two main problems the Sons of Sagacity possess is that they have an absurdly well thought network of information that spans the world. The second problem they possess is that they can strike anywhere and anytime due to the extremely large number of sleeper spies planted in multiple countries. Of course," she paused, "at the forefront of these two advantages they hold are Generals who maintain the well being and fragile stability of the Sons of Sagacity. They're nothing more than a band of tribes coming together."

"Of course, while the Generals run the Sons of Sagacity through hundreds and thousands of subordinates, there are two figureheads that, if they rebelled, could mean the end of the Sons of Sagacity. First is the Spring Demon, the older brother of Sekai 'Dollface' Hamruun. He controls the Exkrucia, the Executioner's Army. His job and his specialty is the assassination of other Sons of Sagacity members, and to make things even worse, there is no approval needed from RedEye to carry this out. Only the Spring Demon has to approve of it, and the Exkrucia move, sometimes in full force, if need be. This makes them the official secret police of the Sons of Sagacity."

She pointed up another finger. "The second is the information network. This is controlled by a General called the Leper. She controls all the information that passes through the Sons of Sagacity and processes it on whether it could be used for the purpose of the organization. Because RedEye controls through information of its members, the Leper is vital to his side as she provides him with the information."

"To show how fragile the organization is even more, is, without a doubt, both the Spring Demon and the Leper are disgusted with the situation of the organization." Unity answered. "The organization's two most important pillars are ready to buckle at any moment."

"I see." Claxton said, smiling. "It is then apparent that these two are the key to any success we may have against the Sons of Sagacity. I thank you for your co-operation, Ms. Unity, this information will no doubt prove invaluable."

He leaned forward. "What you have just given us is extraordinarily helpful miss, do you wish to continue co-operating with the League? If not, you may choose either to go your own way and we shall contact you no further, or to be placed under our protection until such a time you deem to be safe. I must warn you that should you wish to continue to aid us you will likely be placed in numerous potentially deadly situations, given your ability and former position wihtin the Sons of Sagacity."

"I see." Claxton said, smiling. "It is then apparent that these two are the key to any success we may have against the Sons of Sagacity. I thank you for your co-operation, Ms. Unity, this information will no doubt prove invaluable."

He leaned forward. "What you have just given us is extraordinarily helpful miss, do you wish to continue co-operating with the League? If not, you may choose either to go your own way and we shall contact you no further, or to be placed under our protection until such a time you deem to be safe. I must warn you that should you wish to continue to aid us you will likely be placed in numerous potentially deadly situations, given your ability and former position wihtin the Sons of Sagacity."

She closed her eyes for a second, mindless, thoughtless, emotionless, her only gazes at the skin before her eyeballs. Opening them, she sighed softly, gently, without dramatic theatrics or heavy longings. "I'm sorry, sir." She replied in all brutal honesty. "There's a few things that I need to get straight in my life, and it's going to be a bit difficult to fix it all." She smiled somewhat, chuckling at herself even. "Hell, I think it might not be possible to finish it in my lifetime. Untying the knots, that is."

"I understand." Claxton replied. "Very well then, should you require our assistance at any point we will be more han willing to oblige. Also should you need a place of hiding at any point in the near future you may but contact us and we will provide you with one." He sighed. "I beleive we have covered everything then." The archbishop continued, standing up. "You are dismissed, Thomas. It was a pleasure to meet you miss." he stopped as the sound of helicopter blades could befintly heard. "Ah," Claxton said, smiling. "I do beleive that Wall has arrived."

Fists clenched, pulse rising, her head was clearing as the fact filled Unity's mind. He was coming. He had come. He was here. All of these, meagre facts before her in some twisted sense, came to fruition as she began to breath slowly and tensely, her heart seizing in platonic jumps. "Where is he?" Unity asked Claxton, a rushed tone in her voice.

"Why, I am not sure. I heard his helicopter just now," The archbishop said. "So he should be in the landing area behind this building. Shmidt will show you the way there."

"Follow me, miss." Shmidt said, opening the door and walking out.

At the small landing pad, Wall's helicopter touched down. After a moment he stepped out, looking tired, and began to make his way towards the door leading inside.

Unity stood there, waiting, her hand up in salute as she stood still in all good jest. Her face, serious and stern, belied a certain goofiness in all humor that she carried. With a sarcastic nod and a mindless, automated stand, she stared at the door as she waited for it to open.

The door opened, light flooding into the hallway fro a moment before it was blocked by Zealot's frame as he stepped in. Seeing Unity saluting, he smirked. "At ease."

The man was a gruesome sight, battered and covered in blood, a reddened strip of his clothing wrapped around his palm, his clothing torn in several places. As he had opened the door his face had been a mask of worry and weariness, yet now as he beheld Unity all trace of discontent was gone.

"What happened to you?" She asked, eyebrows crunched together in curiosity and confusion. "Where did you go, exactly?"

"I and the other Generals were sent to kill Christina McDonald and her followers." Zealot said, his smile fading. "She is dead, Sekai is in the custody of General Medium. What happened to you? Why are you here?"

"I and the other Generals were sent to kill Christina McDonald and her followers." Zealot said, his smile fading. "She is dead, Sekai is in the custody of General Medium. What happened to you? Why are you here?"

Unity smiled, looking around in diversion. "I knew you'd ask it, and some way, I wish you hadn't. You really don't know why I bothered to come here?"

"We were attacked." Shmidt said, leaning on his cross.

"What?! By whom?" Zealot asked, seeing the gash on Shmidt's arm.

"By Michael." The preist replied with a bitter smile. "He destroyed the apartment." He continued as Zealot's facs went white. "We were only able to just escape,a nd he slaughtered a number of League agents sent to bring him in."

"My God." Zealot said, horror flashing across his face for a moment. "Where is Smith."

Now Shmidt looked worried. "He had left before we were attacked, I don't know where he is."

__________________________________________________________________

Jacob Smith screamed.

He lay on asphalt, blood pooling around him, writhing in pain, a number of pistol rounds embedded in his chest. several feet away from him was a shotgun, he had not been able to fire it. Over him stood Michael Johnson, smiling as he watched the fallen executioner suffer.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Johnson asked, crouching next to Smith. "I made them for just that purpose. They usually arent lethal, but for several minutes the victim is in unbearable agony." He said, and chuckled merrily. "It would seem they work well."

"Y-you.." Smith managed to gasp, his eyes wide as he struggled to think through the pain. "monster."

"Oh, monster am I?" Johnson asked jovially, standing up. He smiled. "On the contrary, I am the destroyer of monsters. I have seen humanity for what it is: vermin. All of you are wicked, corrupt filth, ignorant and selfish, God's greatest mistake. I am but an exterminator, here to cleanse your foul taint from existence."

Smith laughed, he seemed to be now able to move more freely despite the overwhelming pain. "What a ridiculous notion." He said, rolling over and lifting himself onto his knees. "You are pathetic, a sadistic little boy who just wants to hurt things. You are driven by nothing but hatred and bloodthirst, yet you insist upon trying to justify yourself to me. Don't waste your breath, I know what you are." He said, looking up at Johnson.

"Shut up!" Michael screamed, firing a shot into Smith's abdomen, causing the latter to double over again. He began kicking Smith, rage and sadistic satisfaction shining in his eyes.

An arm shot out, catching his leg. Smith lifted it up, causing Johnson to fall backwards. He scrambled for his shotgun, but as he picked it up pistol rounds entered each of his hands. Smith cried out, dropping the gun.

"That was a rude thing to do Jacob." Johnson said, gettign up, a pair of handguns pointed at Smith. The latter stood up as well, though shakily, and turned around.

"Just do it." Smith said, taking a step forward. "I am ready to go."

Johnson smiled. "It will be my pleasure."

A moment later, Smith's lifeless body hit the ground.

"Is there such thing as an apocalypse?" RedEye asked the Fox Lord, his fingers tapping on the sheet as he looked at the news. How terrible. The state of Arkura attempting to gain independence, and even then, the mishap of the Mnemoraxian reign falling and crumbling. The political machines that were preparing for a reply were now starting to mobilize in numbers unfathomable by RedEye. "It seems as if the fall of the outer state is becoming an issue now."

"It don't seem like no issue to me." The Fox Lord answered, chuckling at the grisly photos in the portfolio. "There just isn't an answer that could be provided for this type of behaviour, ya know? Besides, we got a perty little bird in our own enemy's nest too."

"He's not going to last. I want the generals gathered and ready, because the fall of the city states of the Arkura region will drastically put Mengiko's influence in jeopardy. We need to mobilize."

"How about a trust test against our little minx of a spy?"

RedEye paused. "Alright. Contact General Zealot. I have a mission for him."

The Fox Lord smiled.

Unity's phone rang. The tapping of the rotors as the speakers sung, Unity took our her phone, flipping it open with a light, shaking still in her hand. "Hello?" She asked, her eyebrows in concentration, her arms wrapped around her chest, the fingers tapping upon the end of the flip. "Dad!" She exclaimed. "What's with the phone call?"

"You want to talk to Mr. Wall?" She said, looking at Zealot. "Okay."